Upon each stone, a face: a soul denied And left to linger on this beach of lies, That rings the turbid sea where kings reside. This is the place a dream goes when it dies. And huts and towers high each take a stone, To rest beneath the basement, dark and sealed, With all the things we'd rather leave unknown. A stony beach becomes an empty field. When next a roof is raised, and gods demand The soul of one a monster newly named, Who will be lost to honour the command? Who live on knowing that a life was claimed? In dreams I saw the place these stones are laid; My waking mind forgets — or is afraid.
All my ROW80 progress this week (other people’s) seems to be tied up with fear in some way.
Firstly, I finished reading Nineteen Eighty-Four on Monday evening. It was a lot easier to read the last third of the book, I think because the suspense of waiting for Winston to be captured was finally resolved.
In cities floating free upon the seas; In ruins, long abandoned to the crows; Amongst the elves, who live atop the trees; I've fought the monsters every culture knows. My mission stands: to slay each thing of fear, That even fear itself must learn to die. To truly say, "There are no monsters here." If children can demand that, so will I. I've wandered far beyond familiar lands; Against my foes diverse, I've strived and won. There's blood of every colour on my hands, And one last bullet ready for my gun. In slaying fears, I've earned a fearsome name; One final death will end that final shame.