Factory

Swirling smoke
From a dusty cigarette
Loses its identity
To these grey clouds
In this quiet city.

A car rolls by
Splashing the pooling
Dirt of the streets.
The red-eyed brakes scream
"Back to work."

No rest for shadows
Who must keep
Turning out nightmares.
This heaving monster
Is eating itself.

Like cigarette smoke
I lose myself in the rain.
Soul-selling shadows
Walk these streets,
Life-blood to sin.