17 July 2012
My glass palace,
Its tallest tower reaches right up to the clouds
It is made entirely of glass,
Every window every doorway every passageway every item of furniture is made of crystal glass
It gleams in the light,
The sunlight bounces off in a rainbow of colours in a thousand different directions
There are stain glass chandeliers,
Which light up in every room as soon as the sun rises
But until the sun rises my palace is eerily quiet and dark with only the moonlight to illuminate it corridors and magnificent rooms
Everyone always asks why I don't live in my glass palace an why I choose to live elsewhere instead of the glamorous palace I own
I smile and merely nod in mutual gesture
Then as we enter the pool room they see what countless numbers have seen
You just a young Wisp of a lad sitting at the window watching the outside world go past
Most just pretend they see nothing
But some have the courage to ask me
When I write down the story to what happened and why he is cursed to this room
They ask why I do not speak to them to tell them the story
It is then that they notice the knife in our hands still covered with my blood
One person (a doctor I seem to recall) asked me to open my mouth
I did and when he saw the absence of my tongue he flinched and closed his eyes as if trying to forget the sight
Of where my master of speech was taken and disembodied in front of my eyes
It is then that they leave
Leaving me to wonder with only you as some nearly non existent company
It is then that I begin to drift apart again slowly but in the end completely but i am still trapped in my glass palace
My Glass Palace • Opuss № I