Standing at the
Top of the world
Is a great feeling
.
It was a pain in the ass to get there, though-
A few ours standing in line,
Followed by
Uncomfortable proximity to strangers
In a little box shooting towards the sky.
Even at the top,
the long-awaited
Final Destination
I remember being
Really fucking cold
But staring out over that
Beautiful, mysterious city-
There's nothing quite like it.

Every street cradles
Hundreds of lights glowing,
Steady, flickering on, fluttering out.
There's something about Parisian light-
The way it glows within every stone
and how
Ink spills out of crevices to fight its' nightly battle.

Paris is a wonderland,
And looking out over it,
You realize the world is just
So damn beautiful.

We took the stairs down
and down and down and down
And as we slowly fell back to reality
The lights suddenly-
Came on.
We were washed with pure, golden, glittering lamps
glinting off the steel beams,
Off our beaming faces.
We closed our eyes,
Still watching those magical lights
Surrounded by stars in every sense-
Applauding us
Back down to the ground.
I was at the center of everything,
and at the top of the world.