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