The Scott Monument

The Scott Monument

I

Am a

Gothic

Rocket, 

Readying

For launch, 

Fuelled by  

Imagination,

With a single

Astronaut, He 

Is tired of his

Legend, he is 

Weary of his 

Crown, And so 

We schemed

Together to 

Escape this

 Melancholy town,

The countdown it 

Has started, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 

And before anyone has 

Noticed we are reaching for

 The sun, the tourists run for

 Cover, their cameras scatter

On the ground, as we gradually

 Lift off in a cacophony of sound,

The young they stare in wonder, as

 We lift up to the sky, for no one can

 Believe, that such a monument can fly, 

With my buttresses as boosters, and my

Spire as my cone, we break free from gravity,

 And soon we are alone, who knows when we'll 

Return, as we pass beyond the moon, but we have

Tasted freedom, and I know it won't be soon, for I 

Am a Gothic rocket, we are driven by his dreams, as 

We stretch beyond the stars, which pass in ceaseless

Streams, beyond the Milky Way towards the edge of 

Time, as the man at the controls, selects a boundless line,

So if in years ahead, you come upon our empty site, look 

Up towards the heavens, and imagine never-ending flight.