The lights pulse in purples and blues
As the speakers shake with sound
And bodies mingle " moving to the rhythm
Of their stories " feet no longer on the ground
With their hands in the air and worries lifted,
They dance away the final hours of night
Glass shards scatter across the floor,
A reminder of the ongoing fight
At last, their souls flutter into the dark
Carried into the wind with broken wings
Leaving nothing behind but the shattered dreams
Of those who once were the city’s kings

