It has appeared many times
Dimlit place of silent draft
Light that dances upon the walls
Of the elevator shaft
Imagination has placed me here
Within these brick walls
Peeling paint clutches to
Rusted cables
Their singing calls
The pull of motors deep
It's sounds deafen my soul
Losing sense of all time
In this crypt like hole
The coolness puts my mind at ease
In these moments I can seize
Lack of presence in the world
Death is at my feet
Wings of birds are heard
Their muffled frenzy atop
Rooftop squabbles over nothing
In later thought the elevator chop
There are only feathers falling
Broken wings which are like promises
That sink to lower depths
~Moses~
© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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