Eleventh Floor

overhead wooden beads meander
like hangin' creepers upon the bed
from shadows of the dark; protecting,
while you no more breathe;
while you bequeath;
and those feathers drip down
drops of martial dreams;
filling senses with shredded lies;
and eyes with flakes of cries;
remain to be open eyed sighs...

so goodbye broken trees;
n' goodbye empty fields;
we lay our souls on these
seven legged hazy weeds;
life here at the eleventh floor
starts when stairs vanish at the tenth;
thoughts here at the cerebral store
forever from y'all linger at an arm's length!!