Prelude to After the Banquet part one

A long, grey road under lowering skies,
Dusty and swinging right. Under dark railway bridges,
I walk the path by myself, it is concrete, bare.
There is no sound.
At the end, under eaves and bridges, is a grey
Building of empty office blocks. Inside
The grey-blinded windows lights are turned-off
Computer monitors sit abandoned. Dust settles.
It was, perhaps, a vacant building,
A school once inhabited by gaudy teens, full of
Violence and lust.
Youth that flared up behind windows, blood that
Bloomed in cheeks. Even the strong rod of discipline
Laid down, abandoned.
In its empty courtyard, i wandered beneath its buildings,
Wandered, dreaming, over to the right
To face the shadowy wall.
There, outstretched, a long wing of concrete,
Reaching for emptiness, full of rusted-up windows
And the elegance of despair.
Frozen into solitude.
And, set in the wall, were fragile glass doors
Behind which could be seen
Emptiness, walls which once bore
Happy paintings; now not even the flicker of a ghost
Or a vandal's anguish
Lit the corridors inside.