Death is patient as ze wanders up the steep stairs to the steeper stairs to the circular stone atop the Dome. Death has always been patient for, as ze well knows, ze will meet everyone eventually. And so Death dances about the circle atop the Dome, stopping only to gaze from empty eyes.
To embrace the fullness of it in hir long, spindly hands. And ze reaches. Reaching far from the Dome. Into the city. And Death falls. As Death falls every night. And Death fell on the city. And Death was everywhere. And the city embraced Death. As the city embraces Death every night when Death falls.
The Walls are everywhere. The Walls rise around us as we trip through the winding streets. The Walls lean over us. Watching. Waiting. Warning.
Or so the Walls like to tell us. The Walls have never known a time without the Walls and nor have we so we believe them. We gaze at the Walls. The Walls gaze back. You tell me that we have to go and so I follow. We are lost in the Walls and you drag me further and further in. We are deep in the Walls.
The Walls still rise around us but they have no power here for we have reached the River of Death. The River is far older than the Walls (though they will never admit it). The River sustains the People of the Walls impassively. The River gives them life. The River frees them from the Walls. And yet the People have embraced the Walls and built bridges to pass over the River.
We cross the River on a bridge of Walls bustling with merchants selling trinkets to ward off Death. They hide their faces as they offload gems under the cover of the Walls. The Walls hide them. But Death finds everyone. Death is eternal. Death is patient.
For Death is eternal. And Death does not need the streets. And Death does not need the city. And Death does not need the People. For Death is eternal.
Back into the Walls we go. Trapped under the weight of humanity. You seem happy to become one of the People of the Walls. If you could, you say that you want to become one of the Walls. You want to be part of the false beauty that the Walls offer. But the Walls don’t share. The Walls are built on the People and give them nothing but the comfort of seeing nothing but Walls.
We are free of the Walls once more. Beautiful swirling clouds loiter above the Walls trapping the square. A fine mist unseasonably kisses the ground. Stone and gold and glass rise to meet the clouds. The clouds recoil from the Dome. Out of reach. Sitting on the ruins of an empire, the Dome sulks. The Dome watches its city and wonders. The Dome refused to join the Walls. And so the Dome sits in its empty square
But then the Dome wonders if maybe it should join the Walls. For it too was built on the People. An architect’s hand turned to war. A city of Walls filled like a bowl.
Death walks under the Dome gazing up through empty eyes at heaven and hell alike. Death walks beneath the People as they search
and only find themselves standing with Death gazing up into hell as the massive clock ticks behind them. They are reminded to be silent as they stand on the ruins of an empire. The circles below them swing gracefully binding the People into the Dome. The silence is broken. The People are noisy. The People ignore the empire beneath their feet and wander back into the Walls of the one being built on their backs. The Walls are oppressive. The Walls are built and accepted and glorified.
The Walls think themselves Immortal
I am patient as I wander up the steep stairs to the steeper stairs to the circular stone atop the Dome. I am always patient for I know that haste leads to a fall. And so I dance about the circle atop the Dome stopping only to gaze out with new eyes
To deconstruct the empire of the Walls.
For my eyes see the Truth as I dance atop the weeping Dome.
And Heaven And Earth Are One.
I watch the empire of Walls burn in the rain as I dance with Death atop the Dome. As we watch, we see new Walls grow from the ashes of the old as the People of the Walls turn defiantly to the Dome as they rebuild their empire. An architect turned to war. A city trapped. A People destroying themselves.
Death grins and I weep for both of us can see nothing but the Truth. And so we will dance for eternity as the Walls rise and fall and rise again. And the skies fall. And the Dome cries. And the Dead rise. And the River claims the city. Again.
And we will stand here on the Dome.
For it is the Truth of Death
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