Silent rooftops, coded skies, Signals drift where the city lies. Three clouds rise, the silence breaks, Every block knows the choice it makes. Old ways return in the hi-rise haze, Backstreets hum with a cryptic phrase. No wires to cut, no lines to trace, Clouds of smoke, decisions of fate. A smoke coder speaks, the skyline replies, Three clouds for war, the night complies. No word, no wire, no trace to revoke, Only the message carved in smoke. Coded skies… One mark warns, the second draws steel, The third cloud seals what the streets reveal. Ash drifts downward, embers flare, The coder commands, beware, beware. The smoke coder speaks, the skyline replies, Three clouds for war, the night complies. No word, no wire, no trace to revoke, Only the message carved in smoke. Silent we move, coded we strike, The city deciphers the call of the night. Every rooftop, every eye, Waits for the code to cut the sky. Smoke coder speaks, the skyline replies, Three clouds for war, the night complies. No word, no wire, no trace to revoke, Only the message carved in smoke. Coded skies… The code remains.
