Breathless.
The traffic crawls through another signal,
A medley of horns thaws imagination.
The dread- of having to keep it moving,
To not let go and hold on to the break, tight.
A symposium of everything that keeps it alive-
The world and whatever else there is.
Neon lights, archways of a sojourn and
Bridges that lead into junctions- all a pointless perjury.
The city pants, overgrow and made up-
Its blood cells are all almost dead.
It waits, for the impending strife,
A disaster to relieve it of this painful existence.
Somewhere, the end waits berthed,
Harboring the inevitable, relishing the prospects.
The city, it waits-
Almost breathless now.
The Light Shines The Brightest
