Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,



And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,



Stealing my breath of life, I will confess



I love this cultured hell that tests my youth.



Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,



Giving me strength erect against her hate,



Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.



Yet, as a rebel fronts a king in state,



I stand within her walls with not a shred



Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.



Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,



And see her might and granite wonders there,



Beneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand,



Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.





