Within the metal confines
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^{by @d-pend}
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Within the metal confines
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Within the metal confines,
within the stony talons
of city where the slick streets
run with suds of oil,
where noise is drowned with music,
decay is masked by diners
who char the daily victuals
and broadcast through the smokestack
a harsh-allured aroma.

I think I sense a stirring
within the toxic aerie;
I felt a subtle ripple
run through the hazy air.

Some conscience was awakened,
perhaps by fickle storm-front:
opened for the first time
some eyes by ozone pried.

Alert by modern lightning,
the sky a-dance with plasma:
within the metal confines
some living soul is thinking,
some arhat new is brooding —
new-old, now rehashing
long-rhythm'd civ'lization,
its triumphs and its falls.

Betwixt the blackened pennies
sad-sitting in the gutters,
syringes, food and plastic
along the avenues
someone is silent strolling:
reflecting on the chaos,
yearning for a resting
for all the sons and daughters
who writhe within the anthill
and over wild wander —

I know I sense a stirring;
I feel a change is coming
within the metal confines
of all the minds of men.

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