Fluorescent lights reflecting off the floor
Painted with jet-black but faded arrows
That point
Not at the jasmine-scented night
Leaning against the giant glass
But soothing lies beyond guarded doors
Flyers overhead asleep in the sky
Flyers afloat with nothing—naught—to flap
Going nowhere quicker
On greedy dreams and fiery throats
Metal swallowing beaks and souls
Inside fluorescent lights flicker
