A Fleeting World

Through glass and motion, a story weaves, A face reflects what the train retrieves. The city hums, its pulse alive, Behind red veils, her thoughts survive.

Eyes that hold the weight of time, A fleeting world, a silent rhyme. Caught between the here and there, Layers of longing float in the air.

Steel and shadows blur the scene, Echoes of places she's never been. Yet in her gaze, a quiet plea— Who am I, in this reverie?