The gargoyles above the entrance looked down and laughed at me as I left the building, my mind addled by the cocktail of thoughts: obsession and despair, and a black cloud of persistent ghosts. If the gargoyles really cared they would have remembered me and my ghosts, if they really cared they might have offered me some advice:
‘Heart of stone mate, don’t let them get to you.’ or ‘Hard men don’t crumble under the pressure – take it on the chin and come out swinging’
But they didn’t care – it’s a wonder they saw me at all – they didn’t care, and I wouldn’t have taken their advice anyway.
They looked down at this soft fleshy man and his ghostly companions and laughed. Laughed at the weakness of his mind and at the power that his body held over that mind. They laughed, then stopped laughing for fear of cracking their ancient sides. Then they forgot; after all, a few hundred years of watching makes it difficult to remain entertained by the short-sighted antics of humanity; his petty squabbles and self gratifying edifices of glass and steel; his blood letting and chest beating antics; his shallow technical prophets and deep greedy pockets; his pride and stupidity.
Gods in their own right, the gargoyles returned to the timeline of stone, each watching the moss grow green on the other’s cold shoulders.
‘Heart of stone mate, don’t let them get to you.’ or ‘Hard men don’t crumble under the pressure – take it on the chin and come out swinging’
But they didn’t care – it’s a wonder they saw me at all – they didn’t care, and I wouldn’t have taken their advice anyway.
They looked down at this soft fleshy man and his ghostly companions and laughed. Laughed at the weakness of his mind and at the power that his body held over that mind. They laughed, then stopped laughing for fear of cracking their ancient sides. Then they forgot; after all, a few hundred years of watching makes it difficult to remain entertained by the short-sighted antics of humanity; his petty squabbles and self gratifying edifices of glass and steel; his blood letting and chest beating antics; his shallow technical prophets and deep greedy pockets; his pride and stupidity.
Gods in their own right, the gargoyles returned to the timeline of stone, each watching the moss grow green on the other’s cold shoulders.
1 comment:
well lets hope some crays dont think gargoyles are some religiois sign and destroy them all like some did the budha and other art of are past.Also lats hope we can find truly the body is hard so it can work a man is tought because in so many ways females are weak and need a tought male .Ghost are to remind us we are a soirit in a human body and we need to learn for past mistakes not make more of them .Just my simple thoughts on it.
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