In the city of Kenopsia silence sings,
Eerie quiet on abandoned wings.
Fractal whispers in the empty air,
A once-bustling place is now a vacant lair.
Penny-farthing memories, wheels still,
A ghostly ride, a haunting thrill.
Each spoke, a tale of a vibrant past,
Now echoes in the stillness, a silence vast.
Tintinnabulation is a distant chime,
A memory’s reflection, frozen in time.
The tolling bells, a spectral sound,
In the hallowed halls, where quiet is found.
Fractals of abandonment, blank windows stare,
The haunting gaze of an empty square.
Where life once flowed, now echoes remain,
A mosaic of solitude, a ghostly terrain.
Penny-farthing tales on cobbled streets,
Tintinnabulation’s fading beats.
Fractal patterns of a once vibrant soul,
Through Kenopsia’s streets, an unusual stroll.
Kenopsia’s grip is an eerie embrace,
A complexity of emptiness, in soundless space.
In the void of absence, an apparitional trance.
Each part reflects the whole if given the chance.
WoPoLi 
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