The Twenty-Third Floor
The bloodied friction of fists and face,
Was accompanied by snatches of gently devious words.
Those words destroyed the weak soul with a powerful mace,
And dimmed the bright lights already in place.
Over and over they repeated them selves,
'Why? Why me? Why not any one else? '
The words and thoughts brought dark into his heart,
To the point in which he made haste to depart.
He fled to death, leaping to his arms.