Shattered Reputation

"Those who wore pride like gold, now they rot in it." •Silent District The city stands, but breathes no more, Its glassy eyes, a thousand doors. No footstep echoes, no birds take flight Only neon ghosts and broken light. Skyscrapers lean with whispered dread, Billboards hum with words long dead. Ash coats air like powdered shame, And every block forgets its name. The wind won’t howl, the rain won’t fall, Yet something stirs behind each wall. A clicking sound, a mirrored face It watches still. It keeps its place. No prayers are heard, no clocks still tick, Time itself avoids this district. It lingers sharp in frozen air The sense that something’s always there. A beauty once, now dressed in blight, The district sleeps but not at night. For when the silence thickens fast, The hunted know: you've looked too last.