A fumbled 1P piece
drops the length of the escherian stairwell,
banisters ricochet metallic
to slip between the writhing mass
and ding the floor.
Clangour. A gift from the gods!
So sell your soul and body for love and for liberty.
This is below us all.
i just thought it up while walking somewhere cause my headphones were out of charge, but looking back I actually think each line of this has something interesting to say
Except for line 3, i hate that one. ignore it.