The Bereft City of Care Takers

Room after room filled with gloating tables, on each table sits a lamp. Once they kept this whole city alight but those days are long since past and the mangled cords lead off into the darkness. Be careful where your foot falls for in this macabre murkiness our going is not yet clear, each step driving up pallid dust. Why must the light be all but gone excepting the unhappy illumination? And whither does our going lead? Remember always to shut behind you the door whence you came. The iron framework becomes as a bird cage, the sizeless rooms an unending maze and upon broken glass smiles the unhappy reflecting illumination.