Whispers on the Wind

Voices whisper on the wind
a sense of nervousness in the air.
Future generations have not forgotten them
but at what price does the city bear.

What was once pure and noble
affordable by only those who paid the price.
Now come ten to the dozen in multitudes of colour
on the tourist shelves they look nice.

Across the detailed inlaid floors
where royalty once softly trod.
Thousands of shoes of all shapes and sizes
now noisily and heavily plod.

Fine works of art adorn the walls
nothing less than from the masters no doubt.
For the fraction of the price
copies ensure no one will miss out.

They’re all laid to rest in the fortress
peacefully there they sleep under.
Or are they turning in their tombs
at the modern St Petersburg, I wonder!