The Castle of Glass J. LUKE HERMAN
There she sits, in her castle of glass. To go and meet her, Near impossible. To request her presence, Nigh improbable. There she sits, in her castle of glass. Within crystal walls she peers to look out. The suffering is her secret muse, No yearning to cry and shout. There she sits, in her castle of glass, We can see her clear as day. To break the walls, we could free her and run away. But to riot and stomp, Break and burn, To march through the barricades and throw down the porcelain portcullis, Would but release the dragon and the evil she has learned. A tumultuous rage wreathed in fire, Sharp teeth that bite and scream words of ire, An intruder’s welcome carpeted in lies, In deceit would our victory be defied. So, we watch in sorrow as she breathes in that dragon’s fumes, As she gives up her care and love leaving it outside to die alone. And we call out to her from outside the castle’s keep, The walls that can be broken remain unscathed and steep. A prisoner in an invisible cell she remains, Hears us scream and yell but does not let our love invade. To mouth one thing to us she allows: Words without pity, Words without warmth, Words that are ugly, That are uttered to scold. There she sits, in her castle of glass, Where she hides in those fragile chambers to breed her evil things. It’s over. It's over for us all.
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