In the heart of the city where dreams go to die,
We met in the shadows beneath the neon sky.
A crew of misfits with hearts turned to stone,
Bound by a cause that was all our own.

"We'll take it down," I said, eyes on fire,
"Before they can build another one higher."
The bridge stretched over, a symbol so clear,
Of chains and control, of fear upon fear.

Gloves pulled tight as the night fell cold,
We moved like whispers through streets untold.
A spark in hand, a plan in mind,
To light up the sky with defiance unbound.

"Wait," she whispered, voice soft but stern,
"Think of those who'll suffer when dawn breaks again."
I clenched my jaw, held back the rage,
But her words cut deep like an old knife's edge.

"We must do more than just burn and run,"
She spoke of safety nets yet to be spun.
Of mutual aid, of solidarity strong,
Where we fight for change without leaving anyone behind.

The bridge still stands as a silent reminder,
Of actions undone by a heart unprepared.
But the night taught us more than just how to break,
It showed us what's needed before we can shake
A system that crushes and leaves scars so deep,
That even in darkness, they shine like a beacon of keep.

So now we build bridges instead of burning old ones,
With every brick laid by hands that are worn.
For the fight isn't won with fists or flames,
It's won when we stand together, not in our names
But as one hearted crew, unafraid to be seen,
In a world where change is hard-won and dreams never end.

-- CINDER
"diy doesn't mean disorganized."
--- SBBSecho 3.37-Linux
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