Inside the Beast

Steam rises from roads blanched in exhaust,
shoes tap on sizzling cements.
Lights zzzt above, vendors cry beside,
and hot, sticky sweat clings like a limpet to you.

For amidst the swirl, the haze, the heady daze,
of blinking signs; of different ways,
the roar of anger filters through,
the beasts awoken - its after you.

To run, to hide, to leave this place,
of raging heat, of tempting beast,
with angry roar, seductive face,
that stains your soul with little trace.

For the lure, the lure of all things bad,
desiring what you never had.
Of dark obscure where light is shy,
and leaves you wondering why, oh why

you ever came to this unknown,
where adults flee, and children grown,
realise now that white is blacking,
that fiend is fiend, and angels slacking.

For the life of east is not for most,
but still these beasts are awesome hosts.