Mira-v1.13-27B-custom-heretic-ties

The city sighs a concrete breath,
Gray towers pierce the indigo heath.
Streetlamps weep in pools of gold,
While secrets slip, untold.

A rhythm pulses, low and deep,
Of hurried footsteps, dreams asleep.
The rumble of the late-night train,
A lonely whistle through the rain.

Neon signs in garish hue,
Promise pleasures old and new.
Reflected windows, dark and still,
Hold private worlds against the chill.

A lover's whisper, soft and low,
Echoes where the shadows grow.
A stranger's glance, a fleeting trace,
Lost in this vast, restless space.

But in the cracks, a stubborn green,
Defiant life, a hidden sheen.
A dandelion splits the stone,
Where urban loneliness is sown. 

And morning breaks, a pastel brush,
To paint away the night's dark hush.
The city wakes, a giant stirred,
Ready to meet the day, unheard.