Mother of all cities
nested in the night,
illuminates the sky.
buses and the cars,
people and the stands,
all part, all a cog,
all a string, or screw,
of this orchestrated mechanical symphony.
All playing their parts,
through the alchemy of their hearts.
‘Give me more, Give me more! I can’t get enough!’
Faces, all glued to the ground,
drumming their fingers on the illuminated screens.
constantly bombarding their,
Oh, Metropole, Mother of all cities,
this very symphony of yours,
it does never stop!
In the middle of all,
there in the ground,
lies a flower.
defying any logic,
The White Rose withstands,
this final hour.
Standing tall like a soldier,
and shining bright like the Moon,
the White Rose stands there,
in the middle of the square,
in its last stand against the Metropole!
Suddenly, a child appears!
And our last rebel, the White Rose,
is about to disappear.
The violent hand approaches,
and from the ground uproots the flower!
Alas, this is how,
The Mother of all cities, the Metropole,
has silenced her last opponent,
the last rebellion!
Alas, this is how, the Mother of all cities,
became also the Master of All,
the Master of All among the living…