Barely twinkling, fighting for an eye-blink's remembrance.
I held my breath each time;
I fear this fluorescent dream may cease someday.
You walk with such haste, mister.
Is there somewhere you are going?
Is there someone I can speak to?
Amidst the urban chaos, and civil madness.
You are not turning pages in this avant-garde fiction.
We've all turned electric, but the clock is still ticking.
Can someone save this fable before the apocalypse?
The prince never came, and the princess never woke.
My future is bleak.
I'm running on empty.
Perhaps someday,
Someday I would be born again.
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