A beast in the dark, graffiti and grime its cloak, faces blurred, stories untold— all lost in the underground’s choke. The train rattles.
In the murky depths of the subway’s soul, your voice crackles through the wires— a haunting melody in the cacophony, echoing through my mind.
Your words cut through the noise, a sweet song in the mechanical roar, bringing memories of forgotten joys, of nights spent dreaming, wanting more.
Each stop a jolt back to reality, but your melody lingers, soft and low— a siren\'s call in the city\'s brutality, reminding me of places only we know.
The lights flicker, shadows dance— ghosts of moments we left behind. In this metal labyrinth, a trance, your voice a balm to my fractured mind.
We’re all seeking something down here, in the belly of the urban beast, but your song brings me near to the love that is now dead.
I ride these tracks, night after night, chasing the echoes of your refrain, through the endless tunnels, the dim light, finding solace in the subway\'s pain.
I surrender to the steel rhythm, to the city\'s relentless drive. In this subterranean prism, your song keeps my love alive.
(c) R. Gordon Zyne