#undergroundarena

An unfiltered expedition into the raw and unyielding streets, where allegiances are tested and only the resolute survive.

In the town where the crow casts its shadow, Little minds ripe, yet paths so narrow, On wings of chrome, young seeds tend to follow, In the harsh playground where reality's harrowing. Underneath the cold moon's silvery feathers, Tiny souls embarking, embroiled together, Fly on chrome wings, through seasons they weather, Driven by needs, chasing illusions forever. Where my journey halts, yours…