Upon the highest reach of mankind's hands
The air above is thin, it whispers, it is clean
And the humans below gaze above in awe
As humans create technology, there's a divide
Between the ultimate hopes of every man
A realization forms, dreams are out of reach
Yawning aching needs exacerbate every flaw
Our organic life comes with a limit in time
An elegant, ornate glorious spiral staircase
Represents every choice we make in this life
It can take you in two directions, up or down
What choice you make might not be a real one
For what choice do the poor have to not hunger
The reaching of the heights might help some
But oblivion is all that is offered, for others
