The Humming of the Rails
When the roots drink static and the steel serpents sleep,
The city's heart will beat in the deep.
A black tide rises, unseen and unfelt,
By the promises broken and the bargains dealt.
Seek the hollow man with the borrowed face,
He holds the key to the empty space.
-- Scrawled on the back of a damp metro card found on the last train to Brooklyn. The card still faintly hums.
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