Everything
A meeting on new instant noodles
Sky high conference room
Windows glass open on the sky
For a gaze that lingers towards towers
All around and popping out
Appearing suddenly out of a grey grey mist
As if painted in negative on parchment
Centuries, centuries ago
For nothing is new
These new noodles, new towers, new sights
All enveloped, all wrapped in the great all
Talk in the conference room continues
The mist rolls in, covering everything