A bustling city, where lights sparkle so shinning, There meanders an apparition, inconspicuous through the night. A soul burdened, with a heart abused, Misplaced within the shadows, by distresses caressed. Her name is Whisper, a specter so reasonable, She once strolled the boulevards, with dreams to share. But pity immersed her, took hold of her soul, Taking off her spooky pith, broken and cold. Through the dim back streets, she noiselessly floats, Her spooky figure, where distress dwells. Her translucent frame, but a insignificant shade of gray, Reverberating moans of anguish, she yearns to communicate. She frequents the housetops, with pained, hollow eyes, Observing the world underneath, because it passes her by. Each giggle, each grin, a knife in her heart, For she longs to be human, to really take portion. Within the breaks and cleft, she finds her withdraw, A corner to sob, in distress total. The city's dynamic colors, once exuberant and fantastic, Presently appear...