A bittersweet night such as this;
is a testament to my remembrance.
The stillness of the air
brings about old habits dying hard.

The neon signs once sparked life.
Now, can only muster a flicker.
I roam these down-trodden streets,
murky water staining my boots.

Echoes of the past encompass,
judging my unorthodox steps.
I still feel the burning sensation
that has taken refuge in my throat.

I haven't the faintest idea as to why I'm here.
Perhaps I must belong here?
A dying street for a washed-up man.
The grim realization has taken its toll:

I was once everything and now nothing;
my own identity stripped from me.
Ethereal currents, cast me away,
for I'm the shadow of a man I once knew.