The lights and advertizments flash before my

eyes all the cars part right and left as a

police siren cries but where night lays her

black blanket down the city dosen't sleep and

nither do I.

Today,
the tree watches sadly,
a hundred years
of what we might have become.
Every day he sighs,
while roots struggle
through cracks in the pavement.
Each day is a torment
that nobody hears,
lost in sirens and
unearthly noise.
Each day they all smile,
trapped behind bars
in a fortress of stone
and of fear.
The city teems every night
in unholy light
and traffic throbs
in the veins of progress.
One day,
the volcano may erupt,