The city sleeps, a myriad of hushed dreams,
but above the quiet rooftops,
a different kind of life unfolds.
The streetlights, distant stars,
cast long, serpentine shadows down empty lanes.
A breeze,
a lilt of forgotten music,
whispers through the highest leaves.
Somewhere beyond the familiar haze,
the lunar glow fights through,
a pale witness to the night's slow turning.
I imagine currents of light,
a cascade...
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