Fighting Gravity : Purgatory

Now as I ascend through this concrete jungle I'm flourishing. Battling rumors, Hatred, Disdain and Fear. Fear that slowly festers develops into a deadly malice.

I feel myself changing.

Suspended floating swiftly through realms. Death of the ego emancipates the soul; at some point we must let go and grow. Thrown from the sky he landed on earth and now slowly dies. My hourglass is nearly empty, but it's ok.

Death is the beginning.

Life is the ceiling as he dangles. If I cut his rope, I'm sure he'll surely float. But why not ascend? Is heaven for me not meant? Hells on earth if he cuts my rope will I drop? Or hover?

I'm lost in Purgatory.