Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
 And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,
 Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
 I love this cultured hell that tests my youth.
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
 Giving me strength erect against her hate,
 Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
 Yet, as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
 Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
 Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
 And see her might and granite wonders there,
Beneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand,
 Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.