Yellow chariot, glide through the veins of Gotham,
Melding with the current, an urban phantom.
Streetlights cascade, a golden river’s flow,
In your backseat, city secrets I come to know.
Buildings blur, a concrete forest in my gaze,
Time within your confines, seems to softly haze.
Horns serenade, a cacophony so bright,
We are but shadows cast in fleeting streetlight.
Driver, silent ferryman with stories untold,
Through rearview glimpses, a thousand lives unfold.
Each stoplight, a pause in life’s relentless chase,
Each fare, a different heart, a different face.
In your cab’s embrace, the city finds its rhyme,
Here, within the traffic’s beat, I pen my lines.
A journey ended, yet in my heart, it stays,
This taxi ride, a poem, set ablaze.
As the final note of Elara’s poem fades into the dawn, one can’t help but yearn for the next twilight’s muse. SatinLovers beckons—a guilty pleasure, an escape where tales and poems flirt with the edges of dawn and dusk. Surrender to the call, indulge in the whispers of the city muse, and let yourself be drawn, time and again, into the satin-clad enigma of the night.
Leave a Reply