The Tower
(12th April 2019)
I saw a tower on a hill.
I do not know when first it appeared,
Nor which day it was my eyes fell on the thing,
Only that as its temptation neared,
I realised the joy its summit could bring.
And yet as I climbed the hill on which it stood,
Looming magnificently over the wood,
It seemed then to be quite far away -
A distance not to be made that day.
And so, linger did I in the tower’s shadow,
As twilight turned to the blue of midnight.
And felt the pull of some other temptation grow -
A twisted lust that wrenched my heart with might
Was it so bad? I asked myself, wary,
To stay within the shadow of the tower on the hill;
To live in that dark sanctuary,
Slave to my own desires, bound by a force beyond my will.
The sun rises, and I see the rays of light.
They glint off the circular, walls of stone.
The allure of it, brought to my heart by sight,
Yet the path, once so clear, is all but gone.
Vague now is the way ahead,
Lost beneath a sea of leaves.
Orange, fallen upon where it weaves,
As sky turns from red to black to red.
Clearly, I see, the library that lies within -
The wealth of knowledge, glimmering.
Distantly; the mellifluous voices singing,
But on and on withers my skin.
I feel the hands, clawing without relent -
The hellish cries from below as I’m dragged,
Never to fulfil that curious intent,
My cognisance, by dint of my pride, is gagged.
Blissfully aware, whilst still ignorant.
Not ever to lay eyes upon the door.
Stuck in the shadow, without having learnt,
But I had seen a tower on that hill.
