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By Tony DeLorger © 2011
Here I sit aloft, in my cathedral post,
high above the lost intent of souls,
within a multitude of crossed beams,
Below the crusted earth spins,
grinding away the time
in an endless slowing of life,
a procession of misunderstanding.
Why am I here, so removed from reality,
the dim cloud of human life below,
like brooding storms in waiting.
Human endeavour branches out
like tree roots searching nutrients,
yet in the end undermining the earth,
and sucking it dry.
I am perched over an abyss,
too far to fall,
enclosed by the roof of the world,
spires above the clouds pointing to heaven.
Like ants below, never sleeping,
human hordes chip away at life,
their incessant humming,
the drone in my dreams.
Why do I sit removed,
this vista too much to endure,
when all I want is oblivion, a peaceful ignorance.
My cathedral echoes the possibility of divinity,
a path to heavenly bliss,
yet the sky is hidden within the shadow of enclosure,
under my roof, my limits.
Here I sit aloft, watching,
trying not to fall,
and peering into the void,
the spires of my mind, searching, yearning.