Helpless City

-Helpless City-
by Keaton Foster


Darkness
Not pretty
Helpless city
An abomination
Regurgitated
Is this creation
A temple
Upon temples
Monuments
Of mankind
Built upon
Every failed ideology
Raised to ruin
Time and again
We are just another
Reincarnation
Of what’s to be wasted
We are just a difference
Where there would
Otherwise not be one
We are just a chance
We are always sure
That It
That we
Can be better
Reborn
Survive
Our purpose
As we destroy
Our idea
Upon the back
Of our creator
His intention
Not us
Just a byproduct
Not meant
What a mind job
Boggling
Our very existence
An accident
Helpless city
These streets
These people
All lights
Turning white
Before darkness comes
Before nothing unsung
These buildings
Inhabitable
This environment
Inhospitable
The air is thick
The sky is dull
No warmth comes
Just a haze
Overshadows us
And all that we’ve done
There are a few
Just some
The observers
Those with clarity
What they see
What they feel
Iconic surrealism
They make believing
Somehow still possible
The words they pen
A hell of a thing
In every night
In every darkness
In all of these
Stranded metropolises
There is a sliver
Of what is to come
Of what could be again
The observer’s words
A running record
Recording madness
Inspiring both
Joy and brutal sadness
The weak will perish
The strong will adapt
In this
Helpless city
There will be survivors
There will be those
Who will make it
Out of the darkness
Back into the light
They will stand
At the foot of dawn
And again the sun
Will burn bright
In the perilous sky
They will clean up
They will remove the stains
They will rebuild
What all others
Have come to destroy
Their temples
Will be far more glorious
Ornate and astute
Monikers of certain truth
Darkness
Not pretty
Helpless city
An abomination
Regurgitated
Is this creation
A temple
Upon temples
Monuments of man
Built upon every
Failed ideology
In every assimilations
There are those few
Despite all tragedy
That are somehow
Closer to absolution…


Helpless City
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.