City of Hidden Light

Beneath the bridge, the water holds its breath,

in gradients of dusk and flame it dreams.

The skyline hums, not loud, but deep as death,

its towers stitched with soft, elusive beams.

No sun commands this city’s measured pace,

no moon bestows her silver on the stone.

Yet every pane reflects a secret grace,

each shadow sings a light it’s never shown.

The colors rise, then fall in hush and hue—

a bloom of red, a breath of patient green.

The night forgets, but memory breaks through,

in flickers where the soul has once been seen.

So walk this bridge, and feel the silence bend—

the hidden light is yours, and does not end.