Through Marble Eyes

by Eleanor Flowerday

A thick musk of decadence and decay lingers in the air,
Its cloying scent invading the noses of whomever dares to break the residual silence.
Bent glass that lines the walls like translucent armour,
Gives a warped view to the outside world.
Cubes of light drench dark floorboards,
Who creak in response to a visitor’s foot.
Speckles of dust dance in the air like miniature ballerinas,
The eyes and ears of lives long lost.
All this is observed under a watchful gaze.
A stare turned cold by eyes of stone.
Though the minds and thoughts of the figure have crumbled away,
History lives on.
Thus decadence and decay live hand in hand.