A city stands unchanging

A city stands unchanging, a ghost of the ruins below.

There was something else where the decrepit malls and moldy houses now stand, there wasn't always a giant, empty parking lot in the city centre. Centuries of ever-changing seasons, and decades, and eras have left it moaning in pain, slowly decaying with every passing year. But there is a trace left of what was once real, of what could be and what never was. A trace so thin you'll walk right through it unless the city has a place for you.