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.

Magnificently crafted stone in the honour of justice.
On a godly plane with intricate detail and grandeur delight.
Now I must obey the law and depart due to the facts presented to me.
I obey because I should of known what I was getting into.
Bye, bye, birdie.

The backdoor men live underground
lives not tied to any wives and fucking the hives.

In a little place past Piccadilly lies a Red Lion with golden jewelled walls created with elegant reflections, outpouring with streams of Amber.
There still lies the skeleton of once was.
Only gloss puts on a new skin to revitalise the landscape.

Oxford Circus detour:
A degenerate new beginning with no sense of soil breeds high fashion and discontented protestors.