Night Falls in THE CAPTURE
The Capture
“The Capture” is a futuristic place in a world where technology has somehow been partially lost, society has digressed in many ways, and life has become a series of mechanical actions which yield no real results; the remaining humans only keeping just above the rising filth in the cesspool that surrounds them. If you’re trying to get a visual of the whole thing, think an overly-industrial 1930’s type of landscape with a healthy dose of steampunk and a touch of Orwellian nonsense. This new world will be the setting for many Dystopian poems in the future. Check out this other work of mine to get a perspective on this style of writing.
Night falls in The Capture
A forgotten street in a forgotten part of town
An acrid haziness growing dimmer with each passing hour
The nearly impenetrable fog of industrial pollution
Camouflage to mask the quagmire of despair below
Grey soot belching from concrete columns, uncontrolled thermal discharge, and toxic fumes
Poison gas, chemical waste, heavy metals, fly ash, and caustic smoke
Streets of corroding asphalt, pockmarked with battle scars of long-past conflicts
Heaved intersections reveal tangles of rebar, fluted piping, and aged wiring
Filthy steam rises from the rusted steel grating along the perimeter
The fetid stench of mildew, rust, and decayed something that lies below
Rushes to find purchase in the sticky breeze, spreading, expanding
Keeping existence at a distance
While long cold fingers of solvent fumes slide effortlessly along the crowded gutters
High above, the wounded skyline slowly comes to life, silently sputtering
Lines of weakened photocells sit perched atop towering poles
Bursts of low-voltage, showers of errant sparks, or blackened housings
Finally, an uneven glow of putrid pinkish-orange sodium
Random screams of current scream across the bare spots of the conductors
Below the cracked pavement of ancient walkways reflecting the nauseating nighttime hue
Gutters slick with the primordial soup of the urban jungle
Oily residue from ill-maintained machines spitting wet blackness
Acid rain, garbage, slime, and human waste
Worn shreds of torn fabric tossed about in the dirty gale
Refuse bags leave their paper trail
Broken glass, lumber scraps, twisted metal, and useless nails
Windowless behemoth factories surrounded with gates of electrified iron
Nondescript except for their sounds
Angry steam pipes screaming distorted whistles
Metallic crunching of turning gears, squealing creaks, and thundering blasts
Winches, cables, and overhead cranes cast snakelike shadows on the workers below
Oppressive torrents of heat from open blast furnaces create glowing macabre sculptures
Strange illuminations casting demonic shadows,
Sliding up and then undulating across the slippery floors
Automation sitting idle among the heaping deposits of abandoned robots
Semiconductors, circuit boards, and relays pushed into unused factory corners
Technology merely holding space
Some things are functioning, but different than they used to be
The dingy darkness consumes the remaining splinters of light
Noises amplify, reverberating across the high corrugated fences of the night lots
Armies of workers; most silent, walk with a focus on the pavement
The thin guarded opening, their destination
Eyes up, scan badge, verify, and inside…
The assembly line of battered humankind
Leaving the hell of the outside
For the hell on the inside
The Capture doesn’t care….
- When We Lost Control - October 13, 2025
- The Crumbling Space Around Me - October 10, 2025
- Sorrow - October 9, 2025
Oh what a dismal, foreboding place to be. Marvelous phrasing paints a gastly image of unbearable place. Well done, Ralph.
A very descriptive portrayal of this dystopian world. Well done in every way, Ralph.
Such a dark outcome to humanity’s disrespect of the natural world and of course greed. So dutifully penned in poignant dark despair, words to emote a future no-one would wish for. Excellent writing and expression Ralph.