We weave the world with golden threads,
From hearts that dream, to hands that bled.
A patchwork quilt of joy and pain,
Of whispered hopes and endless strain.

The streets hum songs of lives entwined,
Each face a story, each soul enshrined.
The builder, the healer, the poet, the thief,
All share the soil, the joy, the grief.

In glass towers high, the powerful...