Soundtrack

I hear desperation sing out

From the shower down the hall,

Plaintive moans

From yet stretching chords.

It harmonizes with carts

Rolling along down the street,

The screeching tires

And the angry cries

At nights most hurting hours.

It’s the soundtrack of the city

Shouting at the great boot

That would stamp out the light

But for the disjointed resistance,

The reluctant militia.

We march in all directions

Starting as many fires as we put out,

Yet onwards ever onwards.

Even at 3 A.M.

The rubber never leaves the road

And the resilience to survive

Is never stopped, only slowed.

– Vagabond Prophet