Exercise 0: What Happened Next

In my worries I am plummeting down steps,

Industrial, medieval, breezy welcome

 

Stairs like little landings where a foot could catch

Railings made as bumpers

Bouncing light off the walls

 

Accident abound

Winds draw near

 

The door to the bottom

Has no floor

 

Space is troublesome

Those who fall, tend to sleep

 

Reality becomes clarity

Bells ring at the top

Celebration to return

The climb shall be a beast

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