The city I am My alleys veins, my water nurture Nobody need stand on ceremony before my doors I am a home to you And to them Of ashes they come In sackcloth cloaked Much was told of me Listen to my names, different by tongue A rose by any other name smells just as sweet The banners flying in the wind over my towers Purposeless I have no flag, no religion No loyalty I harbour all but stand for none A waver, declaring my immunity Diaspora The one without religion inside the dogma Listen to those long gone It is they who are loyal to me Those in sackcloth And those who yearn for me Some are pious, some cater to whims, Some provoke But I am a labyrinth of layers Find only sense Without a compass For the city I am
sackcloth, religion, diaspora, cater, purposeless