Cairo

A hand above and a hand below,

To steal their stars and stunt their growth.

Beneath the earth, the hidden lie,

Our hands descend while they reach high

Whose line is it that I must tow?

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On the other side they beckon to go,

Their rise deep down, the difference unknown.

Shall I follow their path? Face up, down low.

Whose line is it that I must tow?

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Down there, they're lost. Like mice in a maze

They scathe and they steal under Death's weary gaze

Yet still, as they look, their aim looks on high

Where their dreams begin, ours have long since died

Whose line is it that I must tow?

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Birthed with eyes that cast down; we've never asked why.

"Divine, our blood", they claim, and they lie.

If down there are the bees, then up here, the beehive.

We are the hands that steal the sky.