Adrift beyond the flight of birds.
Lost within the gaussian blur, a city of ascension, juxtaposed
-its secrets, difficult to decipher.
A stair of steel and atmosphere, laced with visible hue.
Ascending from anchor's grasp, liberated from humanities view.
On the clearest of days, every hundred cycles.
You shut your eyes and let the elements shift out of phase.
With fingers stretched full
-your body reacts, begins to pull.
Steel wire formulate and embrace
-established and cold
-heart beginning to race.
First a riser, then a tread.
A pattern re-explored, monolithic, stretched far ahead.
Now right over left, rising seven than before.
Your body displaced, rejecting the floor.
With fists clenched, knuckles white with desire.
You reach the zenith, higher and higher.
When pupil greets air, the scene implodes with distinct flair.
A white brilliance fills the environment and evaporates as soon as it was once there.
When all return to natural state, you crane your neck, disillusioned by fate.
Spectrum and horizon is all that can be seen.
For another hundred cycles must pass when the challenge is deemed.