A Long Winding Dream

'For the Dream at the top of these stairs...' Everyone's good at something. They're at least a lot better at 'Something' than I. I, who to my name have Nothing. Who simply let the days flutter by. They Move with Certainty, while I only fathom the thought. Among Many thoughts I fought, yet the Punishment and Anguish is Wrought. And I know Now what Now is Not. Tripping down a Spiral Staircase of my own Despair, my Soul Flails and Rolls, Breaking, Shattering. Until what was left of me is scattered among the steps and an unfathomable darkness. At this point where my soul had no more to give... Do I collect myself and climb, or banish myself and keep falling? However, I question if the first is even an option. '...are too out of reach'