The Metro Poems

Miners of The Metro

Creatures soaked in sooten skin

Crampt beneath the gravel's grin,

Coddled from the scorching sphere,

Coffined by those ghastly gears.

Pickaxes reeked, wrecking rocks,

plastered with those hellish hoss

pets-of-metro's mono-mews,

peering with a haunting hue.

Blitzing tinks, of trembling trains,

blubber-flesh fester and fades.

bashing the tracks and The Trapped,

Bypassers' frill freedom flapped

Lurking in that limestone lane

Lull-less limbs that's lights on lain.

The Murmurs of The Metro

The Metro’s music murmurs

Marauding men and mice

Marring minds of many men

Marching them to mort

Where metal mets muscles

Where minds mush into mud

Beware of the Metro's music

‘Cause it is the Mark of Mort