Centralia

the sun exposed above mountain's edge through the folds of dawn's rise carmine sky erupts mimicking fire that burns beneath in the crisp morning the earth gasps in breaths of pallid air as it rises from the cracks of asphalt and dirt the smell of sulfur lingers the narrow streets are unkept a few stone walls remain at the edges of driveways where houses once stood the cemetery sits on the hill behind a weathered fence yet the grounds are well maintained if you walk passed the edge of its lot a mound of dirt well traveled hides an abandoned highway about a mile long stretch still divided, guardrails intact the danger, no trespassing signs won't keep the people out the colors allure fascinating you with the graffiti that covers every inch while hundreds more walk daily down that forbidden path looking for a place between the buckles and folds to have their story told on the highway of fame (centralia is a place in pennsylvania where a coal mind started to burn under the earth...people were forced to sell their houses to the state and the few that stayed are allowed to remain but cannot sell or will their houses to anyone, upon their death they state will get the houses! it still burns but less fierce then it once did. they have removed the signs from the highway but once you get close it's easy to get gps to lead you there and when you see people and vehicles line the road by the cemetery, there is the highway, partially hidden by a mount of dirt that was supposed to keep trespassers out~)