The melancholy town

It is a melancholy town,
The flowers are desolate and dry.
No playful children seen around,
No resonant babies cry.

The coffers groan under weight,
Of wealth amassed over years.
But the town itself has hollow fate,
And reels under imaginary fears.

Trapped inside its mind,
Seeing only what it wish,
To others it is but blind,
Yet finds nothing in its life amiss.

When miracles occur in the sky,
Or oceans glow bright,
Alas!It turns away its eyes,
When a beauty on wings alight.

Indeed it is a strange town,
Which knows not where it treads.
Though it hardly frowns,
Yet lives in unknown dread.