This ceaseless world Taunting and terrifying Never lets loose its grip Bird at the Barbican Vultures abound Who make no sound Like a waterfall torrent Or just a drip Faceless monsters In evil rectangles Seduce, sympathize, Swarm You are nothing to them In their desolate dens Desperately searching For a better life in some form How sad they must be Playing pretend In a world of imposters There is no end To lies and sins They take so many shapes To death and destruction Where