Brooding Session

A place bustled with people,
all the faces of tourists smiling ever so bright.

Yet the many hearts of souls,
they lie dead on the floor,
shredded, shattered and shunned.

Even the spring of life,
and the season of revival,
brings not any enthusiasm.

Entertainment and attractions,
chattering and amusements,
lifts but only facial muscles.

Coats of dust covers over,
stagnant and everlasting,
or maybe forgotten by all?