The heavens have closed
their doors on us
and our Gods have failed us.
Flimsy excuses, false promises
all part of the charade, all zilch;
just to keep the caravan moving.
The burden of private tragedies
sitting heavy on us,
we carry on with the monotonous trek.
Lurking in the shadows,
on the periphery of brilliant lights
are the unknown fears,
real and imaginary;
to haunt us everywhere.
No time to love or be loved
in this strange city of sleepless nights.