Ghost Town

The year 20XX:
Desolate capital Tokyo, Shinjuku Ward
an undisclosed club in Kabuki-Cho
real heads gather for a late scrimmage
the entrance in level B2 with a curfew
even undercover agents are unaware
the loud noise shakes the pillars all night
people pile in and moisten the walls
before we hit the stage, concentration rising
nervous, yet isolated in a micro vacuum
Goth-Trad's beat, and Heavy's bass
all ready to jump in a cage full of beasts
but the real hunger came
from the other side of the fence
the front row audience extending their hands
I grab the bull horn and spit the lyrics
the red spotlight and sweat combine to sting my eyes
glowing in attention, I become the shi-te
the archer of tested, steel dialogue
human nuclear warhead in a full-capacity hangar
it's a riot with intense frequencies,
where raw reality challenges seasoned ears
the show quickly reached a climax, and then:
boom, a huge impact shook the room
compounded with the sound, resonated in the gut
the power wavered and so did the output
you heard the crowd cheers turn to screams
material came down from the ceiling
everybody braced for the worst, thinking this is the big one
but the band kept playing,
we had no intentions of quitting the song
with no eye contact, I could sense the vibe
as if we were in the frontline, no turning back
I yelled out to the audience "raise your fists!"
and threatened: "if you want to live, face the speakers, not the exit!"
the dispersed crowd became one again
consciousness came together,
and the rhythm lit a light of hope in the darkness of fear
close friends hugged each other to feel near

once the song was over,
we laid down the mic and instruments
in a piercing silence, our heads were ringing
I got off the stage to check out the damage,
and the staircase had caved in
we worked through the debris and found an opening
when I finally managed to stick my head out,
beyond the screen of smoke and dust,
a scene appeared in the twilight of dawn
the cityscape had evaporated, burnt down to the ground
it was so hard to believe that it had happened overnight
a shock like a head-on collision
I wrapped a t-shirt around my mouth and walked on the streets
high-rises had been leveled
concretes crushed, light poles blown away
and strangely, no signs of survivors
besides shreds of clothing and charred shoes,
melted pieces of neon lights scattered around
Goth contacted his friends
the cell phone signal barely went through
they said, the freeway structures all collapsed
exposing their iron ribcages, like dinosaurs in extinction
alongside Shinjuku, Akiharaba annihilated
Ginza in flames, Shibuya under water
how far did the hands of destruction reach,
only rumors and speculation fueled the fire
if this devastating force came from EM waves of a satellite,
was there a takeover of the defense system?

In any event, we had survived
we then saw others roaming around,
and one thing became apparent:
only those sheltered in deep underground had made it
however fortunate, it was also ironic considering the fact
that late-night business had become illegal
but we didn't have time to ponder that,
we had to think quick about our next move
although we wanted to assess the situation further,
I gave strict orders to return to their respective places
since there was a strong probability of
toxic micro-particles floating in the air
when we made it back to the club, the DJ was spinning
in our ghost town, electricity was still alive
how long that would last was uncertain,
but it was clear we couldn't rewind the hands of time
one girl, with her head down, started to step
that made the other kids rise up and come back to the main floor,
with nothing but sincerity in their eyes
so we jumped on stage to continue the show
rather than worry about food for tomorrow, or our family's safety,
the only truth we could hold onto
was being alive at that moment
on that day, we became Rebel Familia:
to be a herd, one family in the days to come