In the heart of night, city lights flicker awake,
A constellation mimicking the stars it can never touch.
Each streetlamp, a beacon for the lost,
Every neon sign, a whisper in the dark.
Skyscrapers reach with luminous fingers,
Grazing the belly of a sleepless sky,
Their reflections dance in the river's eye,
A network of veins, pulsing with life.
The city breathes in tungsten and halogen,
Exhales stories in the mist,
Under this artificial day,
We find our way,
Guided by the glow.