Not Wealth nor Belle
Behind a glassy wall is where I stand,
Keep starring at this broken land,
The dawning night surrounding me.
What different is supposed to be,
’s now oppressed by gloomy clouds.
Oh, tell me where have all the crowds,
The cheerful, chattering children gone?
All darkness shows abandoned lawn,
Until the last weak ray of light
Thins out and leaves the world in night.
Thy hollow tap tears up the quiet,
I’ve left my dreams can’t back I tried.
What agony to feel the marble floor,
The cold sensation when I reach the door.
Below the pillars of my ancient manor
Where thy visage I glance with banner
Of the dead the first of countless times.
Not to describe I face, the thousand mimes,
The peering eyes though hidden thoroughly,
Thou shake my hand and fear will be.
From then I’ve hidden in my luxury prison,
So many times the sun has risen.
I’ve watched thee rambling in thy leathern robe
With reaching hands around the globe.
The mystic shadows of thy greedy fingers
They grow with while and are what lingers.
No nobly gilded walls, no silky sheets
Nor splendid halls outshine thy greets.
I’m waiting here tussed to my useless jewelry,
Behind my glassy wall outside the cruel sea.
Enough days passed my time has come
A song of destiny is what I hum.
Not wealth nor belle maintains a life;
Who I do chose is doomed to dive
’to groundless pits and airless time.
My robe is rustling like a chime,
A song of death, thy fearful face beneath
„No, please, Sir, please just let me breathe.“
Enfolded in my chilly arms I sigh:
„Oh silly maid how could you try?“
ES Magazin 