Beneath the city’s restless glow,
Lies a path where whispers go,
Echoes of dreams long forsaken,
In the heart where pain awakens.
A gentle touch turns harsh and cold,
Promises of warmth unfold,
Yet in its grip, the soul does fade,
A fleeting joy, a steep cascade.
The mirror cracks with silent screams,
Reflections lost in woven schemes,
Chasing shadows, grasping air,
A hollow dance in deep despair.
Yet hope lingers, soft and bright,
In the darkest hour of night,
A hand to guide, a voice to heal,
To break the chains, to truly feel.