There is Only Hell at the Top

Faceless walls of stone amass
As shallow cackles callused crack
What fall from grace
Does man concern?
For found in feeble frigid eyes
A path which never clears.

These Jesters screech their scheming sorrows;
Such souls to have strayed...
Stutter stunted talks in twisted tongues,
Telling tales of no conclusion.
Have I too lost?

This hell about me spins;
I dared step into the abyss,
And now the abyss steps unto me;
What hollow reflections lie beyond this dream?

Author's Note

First piece in a long while, I feel like my writing is going down hill even though it has been very mundane at best.