I’m stepping into a fairground, where elegant ladies of the night ply their trade, around hotel bars.
The sky visible above us, open and plenty, lending a hopefulness to the cool Baltic air.

The people stand as symbols of prominence in society,
In this cultural centre for the rich, a congregation of nobility.

Myriads of motorcars, tumble from the many bridges, their headlights slide across pale building walls.
‘Tis the fairest of all thoroughfares, I would not swap this moment for all the blessings in the world.

Such changes pass upon it in a single day,
Witness the strained interaction between the humble beggar and the compassionate passer-by.

I’ve heard the beauty of the Nevsky Prospect is that it deceives at all times, but its worst of all at night.
The devil lurks behind the streetlamps with just one purpose, to show everything in a false light.

Danger hides beneath the surface, noone is safe from fate
This magnetic heart that beats alongside the sternest of frowns