Crouched low, the city hums above.
a tiny life beneath my gaze,
a bug that weaves through cracks and dust,
a quiet thread within the maze.
No grand design, no cosmic scheme,
just fragile wings and steady crawl,
yet here it dances, bold and small,
a spark beneath the endless sprawl.
I watch it move, unhurried, sure,
a secret pulse beneath the roar,
and wonder if, like me, it dreams,
or simply lives to see the dawn once more.