Walls of Glass
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Do you hear it too
Yes, the whistles of those rejoicing
tweet tweet, hurray!
Dancing merrily in these busy streets
You see them though.
Those people beaten down before the whims of the Child God.
Old King Dead.
The people mourn.
Dancing in rhythm to the cogs and the wheels.
Dance, dance. The fires will catch and snare and bite.
No rest, toil their lives in servitude and in penance for not being Blessed.
Dredging away in those mines and those factories.

Then you see those walls
Magnificent glass, bespeckled and clear and vibrant and dull.
Monoliths above them.
Crystals stretching up into the azure sky
Warmth for the hearth
-One thousand years repaid in full for one thousands since-
The people live and lived and live through tyrants, not for them.
The Red Crown is not one worn for long.
Their lives may fuel the machine for now, yes
Their lives are the Walls of the City.
This City is them as they are the City.
You know it.
The city has been long dead. The colorful people all that remains. Remained.
Welcome in. The city is yours.
Its name is Nymphallows, and the walls are long since broken.

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