As the city breathes, <br />like a melancholy panic, <br /> intensely formulating <br />a static of manic; <br />like a xenophobic android, <br /> seen many a mile, <br />the city's dour faces, <br />do rarely they smile; <br />once surrounded in sanctum, <br />psychosis there within, the womb, <br />a king in his castle, <br />his throne is his pyre, <br />a cindered
