Flickers of orange-yellow light,
Dancing past the cold night.
A gaze of the old stadium ground.
Whispers of silence as the only sound.
A sharp breeze cuts through the lonely walkway.
The sapped mind from the heavy hours of the day.
On the way back home,
With pictures of monochrome.
I wonder what life is to live,
No stop for a second to relieve.
But, when the heart fervently wishes for a day off,
The contours of my mind still dream just about work.