Beauty in ceiling
This is not a story of swords and deceit or contagious tenet. 
It’s a story of some nebulous people, 
Who had their vagitus here. 
They conquered many mountains, 
Through these wooden stairs, By falling many times.
 Learned to read with carvings. 
Hid their secret in doodles. 
But, The safety scam hurdled their leap. 
Subdued by ruthless myth. 
They were forced to act like fools. 
They touched light through crannies. 
Some found beauty in ceilings. 
With thoughts, Some found pleasure in self-harm. 
Some found happiness in no entity. 
Coerced to conceal their blaze. 
And this opulent pot became their world.
 It’s a misfortune, 
To do nothing or not able to do something. 
But they also have an unsung story.

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