"Isolation can be a canvas upon which the vibrant hues of connection are silently painted."
A figure cloaked in night's embrace strides alone through neon's haze,
Colors whisper secrets in a language that time disobeys.
Mist wraps her silhouette in a veil of urban dreams,
Where shadows weave between the streetlights' flickering beams.
Sullen faces blur like memories on the edge of sight,
Each passerby a heartbeat in the symphony of night.
Connection hangs unspoken like the fog that softly sighs,
In this realm of fractured echoes, truth wears a thousand lies.
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