Brutalism on a Cold Dark Night
Was there ever an architecture
Better suited to the psychopath ?
A soulless, sucking void of arrogance
From a concrete aftermath.
Revolted by the human touch,
They strip us down to a naked shell –
Forget the creepy Mansard roofs,
When this is the door to Hell.
Architecture that loves to unnerve us,
Streaked with grey and urban rot.
It stalks us down the side streets,
As its slabs are looming into shot.
Ashamed of beauty un-grotesque,
It’s where our inner demons dwell –
Forget the spooky moonlit tombs,
For this is the door to Hell.
But worse, is the way this architecture
Spreads its gloom across the globe –
All local style is crushed beneath the bulk
Of this alpha xenophobe.
Abhorring even a glimpse of nature,
Condemning us all to a prison cell –
Forget your wrought and iron gates,
For this is the door to Hell.
Rhyming Couplets 