Bright Gloom

As it lights up the slick streets and the faces of the revellers, the shiny night can glow so brightly that it hides some people. Wandering. They pick their own quests and trials and they answer to their own judges. Maybe they are crazy. But maybe they are richer for the embrace. From the mumbles and the spluttering can be heard the wisdom of ages past and the secrets of cities still waiting to fall. But it is hard to care enough to listen. Like the spirit men of older days, these are fools and sad men. All must be who know they are to fail. The rest of the world believes it will succeed, or at least might. And I hope we do. But try to spot them. Those that have seen their fate. Some in suits, some in rags. All in the shadows.