Subway

In the bowels beneath the city I lie 

A sunken passage between all points on the map

Hollow, but with the memory of life

Vermin travel through my veins

Foraging through the disregarded scraps dropped from life above

The rare plant can be spotted

Illuminated through the cracks in my roof

A complex series of interconnecting halls make up my form,

and these halls hold vast darkness.

They hide underground, intermittently breaching to the surface for air.

Machines used to carry life through my arteries 

like blood cells carry oxygen.

After all, movement is what brings me life

But now my halls are empty

And my heart beats no more.