The lights fracture,
neon spilling into cracks,
sigils blurring in the wet.
Still, sparks rise.
They do not burn,
but glow faintly,
holding the truth
the streets cannot lose.
The lights fracture,
neon spilling into cracks,
sigils blurring in the wet.
Still, sparks rise.
They do not burn,
but glow faintly,
holding the truth
the streets cannot lose.