The Twenty-Third Floor Poem by Soni Nati

The bloodied friction of fists and face,
Was accompanied by snatches of gently devious words.
Those words destroyed the weak soul with a powerful mace,
And dimmed the bright lights already in place.
Over and over they repeated them selves,
'Why? Why me? Why not any one else? '
The words and thoughts brought dark into his heart,
To the point in which he made haste to depart.
He fled to death, leaping to his arms.
In the cold embrace, he lacked any alarm,
Because the words faded, along with his heart and fists.
Never again seen. Never to be missed.
Thus ends our story, one seen before.
A murder, regret, and the twenty-third floor.