Neon Citadel
The forces of self destruction wax in their strength.
Virus of creation that goes to every length
to snuff out the dancing lights coloring our soul,
making soft oblivion preferred to control.
From what wellspring comes this sour, blackened madness?
Foulest demon shrouded - sowing seeds of sadness?
Perhaps it is intrinsic to created things;
the sight of our limits may falter one who sings.
But behold the wonders within your pulsing hearts!
Dreams, love, curiosity, and other upstarts
who see the race of time and somehow still rejoice,
knowing that to be has e'er been the noble choice.
So cling to art, romance, and all may still be well -
Withstanding death's sneer in your neon citadel.
Written 24 April 2022
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