The Last Brotherhood

Leather fades, as dreams once did, Under the neon hum of forgotten nights. Smoke curls where words remain, Three ghosts forged from asphalt, A promise held, yet never explained.

The world turns on a frozen axis, Echoes of engines, now whispering slow, Their eyes reflect a fire long dimmed, Still they sit, together, unmoved, Waiting for a place they’ll never go.