In a city grown wild and weary,
A phone rings, a siren sings, her words bleak and dreary.
Glittering, glowing, refulgent in the night,
Embers of past intrigue step into the light.
Shattered fragments, many shards of a whole,
Fractured legacy of a missing soul.
Captured by celluloid, held hostage in the void,
Reclaimed at last when endless reels destroyed.
Loops of discarded tape splay across floor,
Rolling and undulating, no power to restore.
Reunited with strength of her gender,
She reaches inside to explore wealth and splendor.
Celluloid memories drift away,
Merely carnage from another day.
Mythic kingdom, luster gone,
Dark leads light into oblivion.
Past recedes into present,
Recollections breed obsolescence.
Still, celluloid projections lurk inside blackest hole,
Glinting like daggers which pierce the soul.
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