The broken clock ticks on silently
its missing hands measure stolen hours
rusted gears whisper forgotten dreams
time bends differently for each soul
Paper boats drift through acid rain
hopes dissolve in currents and storms
children’s laughter floats, fragile, fleeting
yet some boats still skim survival
The city breathes, its skin tight
streets pulse like veins in shadow
buildings rise like bones in darkness
neon eyes watch without ever seeing
Candles flicker in an endless wind
fragile flames resisting unseen force
each breath a quiet act of courage
shadows dance on walls of despair
A library holds empty wooden chairs
voices echo through pages of dust
stories unread, forgotten before told
the world walks past without noticing
Shadows wear shoes no feet own
carrying burdens invisible to the living
paths stretch through streets unknown, unseen
their silence louder than passing horns
Broken mirrors in the crowded market
shards reflect distorted faces and lives
sunlight fractures across grime and neon
identity splits under wealth and poverty
The moon casts uneven light on us
full half over towers, broken half below
each life measured by chance and shadow
we walk, unseen, but still dreaming
December, 2025
