While I stand.
The rain in the outside chambers hammers down the stained glass.
Soundproof.
Soul proof.
Bullet-proof.
Windows that allow me to see the world but do not permit the world to see me.
For years I stand here and do nothing.
I do not observe.
I do not comprehend.
I do not follow.
I will not observe.
I will not comprehend.
I will not follow.
The windows are water from the outside.
The windows are ice from the inside.
I can look at everything that happens down there.
The things that happen down there can not look back.
If they were only allowed to do so they would miss me.
For I am not important.
For I am not to be seen.
For I am a secret.
Or I can not be noticed.
I am dead.
And through the looking glass.
I imitate life.
http://www.moonspell.com/index.html
- posted by M @ 1:19 a.m.