Wandering of The Lights

loneliness lingerst loider where the crowd is thickest.

In a city that never truly cared, a young man walked aimlessly. He had no one—only a pair of weary feet and a hope that was nearly extinguished. Each day, he tried to weave meaning from brief conversations with strangers, as if hoping that just one might last longer than a mere greeting. In the crowd that felt lonelier than solitude, he wondered how much longer he had to endure before he truly disappeared.