Building Anxiety

The monolith fa?ade ensnares its prey
And draws us in through dark revolving doors,
Whose heavy swish propels us on our way
Towards the lifts which creak through all the floors.

The ceilings are ridiculously high,
Stairs encircle every twisted storey,
Beside tall windows, statues view the sky,
Standing proud in neo-classic glory.

Maybe this is Kafka mixed with Escher,
I'm falling in the stairwell of my mind,
I'm feeling ill at ease and under pressure
And wish I knew which room I had to find.

The sound of footsteps breaks the heavy silence
And echoes through the corridors of fear,
Told to stop, I scurry in compliance
Towards the finger beckoning me near.

Why am I here? Afraid I don't know,
I feel obliged to apologise,
Then ask for advice on where I must go:
"You're already there," a voice replies.