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