Holes formed
Never sealed
Rocks stuck in shoes we wield

Crude remarks
Vulgar gestures
No one cares for barren pastures

Or to look at the
Spires jutting off
The tall towers

Picturesquely preserved
Stature of a stone hawk

Loving every
Last thing
About the watching statues

Runoff from
Stone brick and mortar

Acid rain erodes
Carved aqueducts
And their gutters

Natural engravings
Off staving
Their craved pavings

Clutching Club and Shield

riot control

Clutching Club and Shield

In the station we armor up
As modern knights we step out
Into the sun, smoke in the distance
We get into vans to face resistance

Stood up, hands on rails above
Comrades clad in black sire’s attire
A bumpy ride to civil disturbance
Steeling to face the worst of it

Sirens are on and speed slowing
We arrive on scene, waiting
For the signal we prepare
Back doors open we disembark

Helmets on and batons drawn
Visors down and shields on arm
We line up shoulder to shoulder
Each one of us: stone composure

Aggressors and vandals we face
Shields blocking offensive mace
We shove them back and push
Forward we go, reclaiming the street

We hear yelling and threats
As lawmen we are hated
Here in anarchy we walk
Yet it is precisely our place to talk

Tear gas disperses looter and felon
They kick and hurl back canister
Fighting us with improvised weapon
To them we are doom ambassadors

Tension and fire surrounding
Loose bricks sail overhead
They throw punch, hit with sticks
Clutching club and shield, we defend

Crowds of hundreds get near
Suited up, we have no fear
We lash out, swing baton
With shields up, we continue on