The night becomes a young man drowning his troubles in the moonlight. The city comes alive in its own unique way with its mellow essence seeping into his soul. He takes in the serenity encompassed by the other travelers blending into the shadows. There is a feeling of sadness and agony running through his soul, while his spirit gets lost in the plumb-like essence of the business surrounding the alley. Whispering winds dance against the lights hovering over the ground. They await their chance to meet in an embrace, the spirit causing disillusion of the souls haunting the compounds of society.
For the neon beckons the merchants to exit their stores, in the hopes of having a nice chat with those on their way home, or are out for a midnight stroll alone to take in the quiet. Cobwebs get stuck in the mind, the attic of the spirit, drowning in the circumference surrounding fields of dreams never bound for fruition. If only the spirit of the night can meet the travelers half way, while sitting under the awning of the store’s entryway.
I call out to the moonlight to ask the dancer of the moon to release the fever eating up my soul, and drive my essence forward, while walking into platitudes burning inside my spirit. The traveler leaves his past behind in the fog, while the heart of the city weeps from neglect.
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2015