Running low is a story retold

Across the true and blue land

Spilling from alleyways,

Beneath the faint gleam of neon  

–

Worn is the fabric

That binds hearts together,

Frayed to the last strings

Threatening to sever

–

The far and wide hunger

Once separately grown

Now twines and blossoms

As a unifying scream  

–

While the world’s inner gears

Labor unfazed,

Lighting palaces shelved

On their far away hills