The Tower
Poetry
I was walking barefoot
on the blades of grass,
when I saw the tower
made of tinted glass.
Among the wilderness
it was as big as a mountain,
manned by dozens of guards
hiding behind a big fountain.
Soles soaked in dew and turf
I ran toward its porch,
amazed why I wasn’t stopped
I entered inside with a torch.
A guard rushed behind me
and guided me to the hallway,
an elevator opened as I reached
and took me up to the skyway.
Charcoal clung to my feet
as I landed on terrace-ground,
chimneys were exhaling gases
air fueled with something foul.
I rushed back to the gate of lift
but it wasn’t there anymore,
alone on the suffocating roof
I was frightened to the core.
Making my way to the edge
I glanced down into the wild,
all but the Tower were green
I felt locked up and exiled.
Craving to go back again
I climbed up to the handrail,
gazed down at the giant oaks
helplessly I began to wail.
Longing to feel the nature
I tempted myself into distress,
If only I had ignored this Tower
I would’ve avoided a big mess.
With every second that passed
I felt more and more strangled,
the harder I was trying to breath
the more I was getting tangled.
Left with nowhere to run
I stretched my arms wide,
dived off to embrace death
I’d let gravity be my guide.
Eyes shut for the final prayer
I was hoping to land in heaven,
but then I woke up to the buzzer
and my clock was striking seven.
-Ankit
