The City Burns
My soul is a city
Like the one described to Adeimantus
Dominion of Philosopher-Kings
Who in their providence inspire
Baser subjects to protect the overseers
Or to lay foundation stones
Of temperance and regret
But, oh, when you stand close to me
Lovers of sights and sounds awake!
Armed men break rank
Break open doors locked from inside
Ecstatic, turn their blades upon those kings
Meanwhile on fertile fields below
The working class revolts
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