Even on a bus devoid of colour,
Driving on an ashen motorway.
The neon skyline is beautiful.
Twinkle and fall but burn bright,
The majesty, the full moon,
Smiles unblinking, down on ours;
The monument to technology.
I pity those who can't see it,
More those who won't;
Flowers of light and dark,
Criss-crossing the night sky.
We have day and late evening.
Night is for hunting,
but there is no night.
We have only day and late evening.
And our monuments to technology,
Until the sand and earth reclaim
What was theirs all along.
Attempting-to-be-Poetic Ethan..
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