The sky at night is a black ocean,

Ablaze with neon,

Orange, green and blue electric fires,

Empty trains crawling through,

 

Silently on the edge of my bed,

I attend with uncertainty,

Dim roadside rumblings,

Somewhere life is thriving,

In this here city,

 

Beneath the crusted sheets of steel,

Music is danced to,

Voices are mingling,

Experiences sharing,

 

Taxis are hooting,

Emergency sirens,

Piercing the moonlight,

In this here city,

 

Somewhere, somehow,

Invisible people,

Existing in alleys, in attics,

In rat ridden basements,

A speck from afar,

A lighted church steeple,

Where bells toll at midnight,

Besides a shy hilltop,

 

Another train passes,

This city is rancid,

A vulgar black belly,

Of toxic reluctance,

To look at a beggar,

To love just one person,

This lonely cold ocean,

Stillborn and silent,

 

Except for the church bells,

What hope do they give us,

What life do we yearn for,

In this here city.

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