Rip Poem by Eric The Viking

What was, now, only makes one sigh
I hear the bustles from a community alive
Watching my feet as I walk the town
Having missed my chance to say goodbye

I watch the lights turn green to red
Their colors blur blowing in the wind
Controlling the nothingness that settled in
No cars are coming, the streets now dead

This town is now off to sleep
I continue down this lonely street
Where the hustling crowds have all ceased
This town is dead may it rest in peace