Hark, while the wasteland breathes out silent whims,
And see, as night's aura cloaks distant trees;
A sinister echo of ancient hymns,
Floats up, in a creeping midsummer breeze.
As the miles sum up - an anxious bearing,
Rushes a vague fright up the fragile spine;
But with the city lights on watch, nearing,
This unsettling fear slides down the incline.
The unattended anxiety does go,
Which this travel in the dark did arise;
City lights torch a new fret although,
But far less weary, it, in question, lies.
Wearisome measures of the restless nights,
Merit resistance by the city lights.
Based on what traveling away from home to another city feels like to me.
