Tal Xel’atoth

Deep within that wretched,

rapturous, metastatic

Uber-city of sprawling slums

teeming

with bitter ghosts

Where the grief peddlers,

dream-gropers, and

hex-slingers

press in, hawking

verboten shadowcraft

In its desiccated

hanging gardens

where the wind whispers

and wheezes, warbling

songs of your death

That’s where you’ll find

your lost girl