There's nothing. Marble and parched dirt and dispirited people slogging through the end of a long workday; no song of the White. No heart of the world. No fire and no memorial dedication and no wash of all-consuming rightness.
Just an office lobby, and a security guard beginning to stare at the tatterdemalion girl beginning to weep silently in the middle of the room.
The eyes are not here There are no eyes here In this valley of dying stars In this hollow valley This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
When he finally clears his throat and tries a tentative, "Excuse me, miss?" she whirls around, glaring hotly at him for an instant before she spins and runs out, back to the 42nd Street and away.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2007-08-21 07:18 am (UTC)There's nothing. Marble and parched dirt and dispirited people slogging through the end of a long workday; no song of the White. No heart of the world. No fire and no memorial dedication and no wash of all-consuming rightness.
Just an office lobby, and a security guard beginning to stare at the tatterdemalion girl beginning to weep silently in the middle of the room.
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
When he finally clears his throat and tries a tentative, "Excuse me, miss?" she whirls around, glaring hotly at him for an instant before she spins and runs out, back to the 42nd Street and away.