On London

I’m in the city of lore 
where the ‘Great Beast’ once roamed.
There stood a blazing time 
where no water could be found but only overflowing foundations fountains of men’s blood.
Now a city of wankers,
too blended to be any good,
too busy to progress.
It’s cool and everyone looks for the truth in your eyes.
Shape-shifting spies in the land of conspiracy and deceit. 
They can stand everything but themselves 
for inside is a bomb waiting to explode into love, hate, and endless confusion.
It is all too busy and it makes me dizzy.
I prefer the land of slow wanderers simmering in their truths.