Condemned

Something moves and something turns
and you will learn the shape of it.
It grows out of the near darkness
and out from the sounds of fear
crawling through these dead streets.

You turn to see, but all there is
are concrete black shadows looming,
and the ringing echo of footsteps.

In your mind, your blood flows
like rain down gutters into drains
and you are left, bare and empty
as one of these gutted buildings
that wait, indifferent and condemned.