The downtown streets of my city, enveloped by the soft cloak of darkness that lies overhead, but illuminated by the lights below.
The lights below, which cut through a heavy rainfall and biting air.
Cars whip by, and the passerby shouts, but to me, all of this is silence.
The white noise, of a city growing more nocturnal each night the sun sets, and gives way to the stars.
Maybe I think down here, we are trying to mimic the lights of the beauty we will never be able to reach.
And every night when the bell tolls, it marks one more failed attempt to grasp the unobtainable.