Carthago Est Delenda Million Dead

To Carthage then I came
As a young boy lost in the promise of
The steady beating heart
Of the metropolis

But I spent so long beneath
The dim street lighting that
I strained my eyes and
Lost the finesse of my fine hand-writing

It's not like I need it these days
My letters home have been getting shorter
I can't concentrate if
I can't secure a source of clean water

But there's never a drop to drink
In these concrete furrows
My anger is Vesuvius casting its shadow

I spent so long walking across bridges
Failing to appreciate
The sweating rivers flow escaping
Leaving the city streets
Tinderbox-dry and oh-so-tempting
My fatigue is San Andreas
Shuddering slow