In the bright and clear daylight hours,
The awake city and its sturdy men labored away,
Hard or smart to some honest pays or deals or fortunes.
Or to some losses painful as it's sometimes the case,
Taken in good faith or not. The trade,
Presumed, will recompense.
The dirty linings and dishes;
And early made meals for their beloved husbands off to work;
And lovely children so seen to and from schools;
But when the day's tasks are done,
These duty unbound pallid faced men and women
Out-clocked from scattered factory bowels,
Or those isle-yonder cloud-hugging offices;
A heaving runnels of human ants in hasty drift
Both on heels, behind wheels. A flight
Of souls whose wielding hands
Daily turn the city hub of excellent commerce
Stomping home to their deserved roost.
"Tomorrow's another day": they crowed excited along.
But meaningful rest hours they must torture to waste
In madding traffic gridlocks ensued off impatient drivers
Charging its winding streets in a rape of reckless motions.
Exited long or short to couched in homely splendours;
As night rapidly falls though the cherished
Awaited of all man and womankind truly work-weary;
And ever eager for imperative shut-eye escape;
Except but for some faceless scoundrels separated
To nocturnal brigandage; Who steeped
In contempt all honest labour to success;
Yet paused at nothing to sate their affluent consumptions:
In food or clothes or women the best or nothing;
Down the womb of night's deep and dark and silent;
While the city's sleepy-eyed mass has long retired
To their slumber-beds;
Behind dwellings largely on the quiet streets
Where Dane-guns wielding guards keep their porous sentries;
These dreadful strangers huddled in shadowy alleys along;
Hooded, terror flared deep in their eyes. Like frightening demons,
These feral beasts prowled the nights unimpeded
On padded hind-legs flexing guns and cudgels' clawed forelimbs
Through shuttered gates of irons and woods.
Which Sometimes are gently opened by affright families.
While their dreadful acts lasted, Probed,
A catalogue of woes revealed
I remember, A lovely new-born smashed to the wall
For the parents on the night proved tougher than expected
With their vault of riches; Some sweet young girls
Had their cherished innocences violated; Husbands made
To fanned through the ordeal of their women serially raped; .Sooner,
Now clear-eyed, families obediently turned-in
Hidden vaults of fortunes or treasures. Such a night
Of horrors it was. And the dreadful strangers long gone
To their Cosy lairs. Dared to be reached by the
Proverbial long arms of the law.