The city crawls beneath you
like so many beasts awakened
in your recent nightmare, skittering
to somewhere you dare not imagine.
This is not your city, it could never be,
for cities are mere illusions, veneers
for prisons from which few escape
and fewer still are paroled, and
your sentence only ends in your death.
Some say cities are beautiful, but
you know they are the underside
of large stones in the wild, all
manner of creatures hidden from sight
suddenly alive and seeking shelter.
You are a child of the city, but you
do not want this known, for fear
that it will reclaim you and nature
will fall away and loosen its grasp
on your heart and your soul.