Ghostly as the train window reflection
Rattling through the rat-infested depths;
Indifferent to any Insta story section,
The filthy fabric humbles and accepts;

Inhaling a kind of premonition,
A melancholy of enigmatic love;
Putting all the pieces into their position
From underground to the towers above;

These new shapes still dripping time,
Old and haunted to new starry eyes;
Ethereal apparitions crossing the line,
Life suspended in these twilight skies.

Inspired and paraphrased from this post at Spinning Visions
Shared with dVerse OLN as this one seems to have slipped by without notice.