Spectral Oversight

In the depths of industry, where steel meets sky, Two guardians of progress, with plans to the eye, A spectral presence looms, a mystic, glowing form, Watching over the toil, as the workers take their storm. The green mist swirls, a veil of mystery and might, As cranes and scaffolds stand, like sentinels of night. The men in orange vests, with hard hats on their head, Pore over blueprints, their faces lit by the ghostly spread. Their eyes, a window to the soul, reflect the weight, Of the task at hand, as the ethereal presence waits. In this realm of industry, where human meets the divine, The workers and the specter, in a dance, entwine. A tale of labor, of dreams, of the unseen force, That guides and guards, as the structures take their course.