When the opaque dusk swells,
The broken street lamp’s
Pearlescence of glass shards,
Overshadows the warmth of light bulb
The night is the unsung hero,
Catching the pirouettes of silver slivers
and fixing them
to the stars.
The bulb’s venous fuses,
The wires’ bony architecture,
The tenacity of the current,
Convulsing for terminal luster,
Flickering, fading
To eternal quietus
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