We live in a metropolis of words
but by the tracks we travel in herds
an overused metaphor for a mysterious wanderer
cold, steel, tracks
this locomotive takes us nowhere
afraid to graze the city
with buildings composed of phrases
receiving our inner praises

Though we conceal our doubt that;
we will never be greeted by a council
or consorting with proving our worth

These words will never support four walls
none the less a foundation; for future
They will never lose their value even when time grows tough

Fear not the glass vessels
hosted higher than our closest stars
for it is a fleeting thing to live
as though we are dead set on leaving
but the same portions of these railways
are served in these academic hallways

Be it by rail
skin
the mass
or a cabled shelter falling all over again;
we travel in herds, knowing what we’re worth
but never trusting an already settled terrain.