The Grey Boulevard

In a city of concrete and steel, A Bleak Alley stands alone, With crumbling walls and broken seal, A shadowed path, unknown. The streets are empty, cold and gray, A haunting quiet fills the air, As the wind whispers through the decay, And tattered posters flutter where. The neon lights are dim and dead, No laughter echoes through the night, Only the sound of footsteps tread, As shadows flee from the light. It's a place of urban despair, Where hope has long since died, A forgotten corner, buried and unfair, Where the broken are left to hide. But even in the Bleak Alley's heart, There's a beauty in the decay, A reminder that though the world may fall apart, Life goes on, in its own way.