He looked upon the finished tower, <br />at dusk, as in this sacred hour <br />the city lights reflect so loudly <br />and silent bats are flying proudly, <br />the structure was a masterpiece. <br /> <br />Gustave went down on his French knees <br />to thank le Dieu for inspiration, <br />allowing him infatuation <br />to build this wonder of the world. <br />When in his head a gremlin curled <br />iself and wrapped its closest neighbour <br />inside its claws, then stuck its saber <br />into the heart of all sane thinking. <br /> <br />He smelled the fear of slowly sinking, <br />his vison blurred and sparks ignited <br />those structures, previously delighted, <br />and within seconds, battlecries <br />hurled echoes out through both his eyes. <br /> <br />He staggered slowly to the lift <br />to now ascend what his mind's gift <br />had built and happily presented, <br />(and no one knew he was demented) . <br /> <br />The view from there, like any height <br />inspires awe and sometimes fright. <br />A step too far, its brash demands <br />to bring what now he understands <br />a closure to his undertaking. <br />The time is now, he is awaking. <br /> <br />To not run out of what man needs, <br />the catalyst for all his deeds, <br />he takes a last gigantic breath, <br />lets go of it to meet his death.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/monsieur-gustave-cazin/
