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The Tower Of Produce

Stroke thy crystal tower from the stair. Each foot, lightly tipping your weight upon the higher plane of the next; so will thine curtain of protection against thyself.

Give thanks to thyself in every motion towards thine gaping hell and squinting heaven.

Look, yonder!

To thy shores of doubt; how they lay dark and peaceful at the embankments of elusive joy.

Know ye, who travel upward with fear of heights and waning call of dissonance in forward strides.

Glance ye who dash thy flight, in leaping bounds; gaping the distance between thy crystalline stair or pair, thou shall never feel the foundation and stabilizing grace of it’s uplifting, spiral droll.

Melt in thee; thy steps to erection, each shelf.

Where be thine horizons inside thy tower of invisible pains?

Panes of glorious accomplishments of comparisons to worlds of personal contributions.

How it shatters so, at each misstep; as thou shall pity glass, for it is of brittle composition.

Upon the reaches of thy majesty; reach out from so high- nimbly catch the broken shards as they fly, with intent towards thee and thy common grounds, so hardened under your stamp and unforgiving for thine actions.

How the surface of this Earth would destroy your creations!

Construct a new ledge for thy overseeing and thine elevation to the strict, foreboding summit of rock bottom.

Gaze out into the void of everything; what has not been fashioned of sparkling vulnerability.

Dost thou see it?

There lay another beach, far off in the now; at the foot of thy tower.

The marvel of a twisted stair; it’s destination shall lead in the direction of it’s indecisive traveler’s choice.

Whilst thy tower dangles from the sky; thine ceiling shall become the sand from which it has risen.

Thy hope shall temper thy glass and join it in it’s properties; adding itself to the dust, aloof from each crack under weight of thy conscience.

What a fine tower, in all it’s beautiful perversions of the light.


As the light filters through; portrayal of images untrue to the burn from heat capable of forging crystal from grains of earthen outcast shards, collected in heaps.

Discarded by the whim of the bold and fearsome mountain.

Know thy sights can reach in distances from the peaks of thy heel; never the place where they fall.

For the sand that makes thine fragile wonder, it’s origin rains from the tears of the mountain, strong.

All that fall for all that fell all; all.

Fell by nothing; most of all.

All that stand on, stand by; hope shall form on the surface of the eye.

This tower is a ladder to the solid ground, as much a beacon to the stars.

Howsoever thy heel should fall on sturdy footing, where thy stair shall lead to peril.

Hath thou elevated where there was a stair or never a foot should make thy travel?

Light must enter thine eye, as it must thy painful panes.

Forsooth the image is painted, all the same in likeness to darkness.

Thou shall see in pitch; the image, unaltered from pedestals within thy tower, if not from the tricky lenses of pain.


The isle of enlightenment!

Over yonder waves and curves of thy terrain, it is a haven!

Thy genitals are inflamed with worrisome loathing of thought that a remote salvation has prinked upon thine lust for comforts.

Share thy blistering fear of thyself with the gift of existing elsewhere!


It is an illusion; this light of retreat!


It is thine island, under thine own footing!

Stand and gawk upon it’s maleficent magnificence; all of thine towers are made of everything in thy vision.

Wheresoever’s stair lead; surely it is upon thy heels, palms or spine.

It shall be erected to be detected.

Oh, the eyes of a crystal tower’s dame or mounted, surly knight!

Open thy gates to the surface of thine island and thy erections shall topple, inside the home of every mammal.

Come into thy mouth of the seas; banking on shores of distressful and cumbersome erections of glory.

That which will be hallowed and followed by the sparkling glints in the mounds of sand, inside thy deserted heart.

Know this; human…

A crystal tower stands for each of thee to glorify the stare.

Each stair; towards anywhere.

That it should not be here.

Clearly, everywhere.

Tower under the mountain on top of the world by FF

Published by Fartfist

I am personally a personal personality for a personable person using this persona.

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