Metropolitan Breath

The subway’s breath, vacant, spreads upon the tracks.
An iron sigh crosses the night and falls silent.
Slow lights trace shadows on the faces left behind.
In the darkness, the dreams of those remaining gain a faint glow.
The tunnel guards them like stars set in steel pipes.
Each corner turns to a map of wishes held in hand.
The cars are sleeping, yet the silence holds a steady voice.
Each captured breath grows into an unseen lantern.
The ones remaining hear the city breathing, timing the tracks.
As dawn arrives, the dreams stay burning like bright beacons.
The vacant breath shrouds the hopes of those who did not leave.
And thus, the subway lights the dreams of all who stay.