A Thousand Words
With hook and grapple, the tower's entered,
I enter its thick gloom.
The darkness feels like a blanket,
Cutting off the stars and moon.
…
The dust, it blankets table, tiles,
Cobwebs all around.
It smells of age, smells of despair,
Broken glass on ground.
…
I take out my lantern, strike a light,
And see what's already seen.
Nothing of value, no loot to take,
A waste of time, a dream.
…
Who had lived here, I ask myself?
And where did they choose to go?
Did they have a choice, I start to wonder,
Wasting time, but even so…
…
Yet something twinkles in the gloom,
And I lift up my lantern gold.
Rafters of the ceiling high,
And a sight, I do behold.
…
Paintings, murals, works of art,
All adorn the walls.
I use my grapple once again,
Walk on wood, I must not fall.
…
I look at all the images,
I reach out with my hand.
The paint is fading, time takes its toll,
On my palm, the paint flakes land.
…
I see lanterns, I see stars,
See animals and more.
I glance back down towards the ground,
See things I didn't see before.
…
The pictures are all over,
They cover every wall.
Some faded more than others,
Most vibrant are the tall.
…
Those that are the highest,
Out of time's long reach.
Some cling with shades of colour,
As if to time's mercy beseech.
…
I see flowers, I see letters,
I see a girl with golden hair.
A real person, I ask myself?
Or a dream that went nowhere?
…
And then I see a pattern,
I see how things they change
The letters, flowers, at the bottom,
Lanterns highest of the range.
…
I follow the tower's cylinder,
I see complexity increase.
I see colours become more vibrant,
As if from walls wanting release.
…
With grapple, I head back to the floor,
And then head back to ground.
There's nothing that I can steal here,
No worthy items found.
…
Yet I still think of the pictures,
Of the story that they tell.
All fixed to walls, no free frames,
Nothing I can sell.
…
But a picture's worth a thousand words,
So I figure, let them be.
Let them stay as long as time permits,
Let the images run free.
…
I snuff out the lantern, head through the grass,
The story, it's been told.
Yet the pictures linger in my mind,
Of stars and lanterns gold.