Yet, once again, she is ravaged,
As a Tornado lays waste to the wooden city,
Reducing her, and her bridge, to kindling.
Her people recover, rally and rebuild.
All the while she continues to expand.
Westminster, Palace of Palaces.
A City within a county,
A county within many.
And as the Indian Empress takes control,
Peace and prosperity become abundant,
But, as human and beast compete for space,
Her veins become clogged,
With machines that spew steam and smoke.
A Walkie-talkie and a Cheesegrater join the Gherkin,
© Daryl G. Morrissey