St Pauls. A multi layered container of past religious and cultural experiences. Nestled amongst the sprawling and ever-expanding city of London. Standing as a testament of the religiosity and sheer will of mankind. The crypts, suffocating, the once damp stone walls and cold marble floor now whitewashed clean and heated from below. People of all cultures flooding the dimly lit spaces. The living now intermingled with the dead. The Cathedral floor, security on the doors. Overcrowded no space for one to be enthralled. The dome in all its majesty too far to reach, caged from beneath. The long winding stairs offering fragmentary moments of brief solace. Rare glimpses of external beauty and internal torture. Reaching the top. Lungs filled with air. The city pulsating, breathing. Living.