Anarchy

Frigid buildings as those

That scrape the sky, climbing.

In a place that no-one knows,

Distant bells are chiming

 

To the shots and screaming,

"Stop resisting!" A rise

In terror betraying

The brittle city's brittle lies.

 

And for a time we hoped that they

Would never know our quiet rage,

And from the melting lights, we pray

For the silent, now upstaged.

Done