A parched well
with little use.
A prison.
He’d fallen.

Clamber he must,
up a ladder
that had seen better days.

Each rung whispered
promises of salvation
and absolution.
If only they didn’t concede
to the weight that betrayed
his every step.

•••

He laid broken
and splintered.
Much like the ladder,
whose top rungs mocked
with the same song

but it’s too far,
too faint to hear.

.