I've been to a place of glass.
If one looks deep into this glass they will see the same weary scene. There is a marble floor of purest white and high slate walls of blackest night. The tumultuous sky is strewn with strangled clouds, and the wind roars, strong and proud.
In this roofless cell kneels a man, his pain is clear in his bloodied tears, but his fate seems sure as death. I left this place at once, yet I returned many times again to find the same weary scene.
Why will he not die? Can life be worth such suffering? All unbidden, his anguished answer floated to my unguarded ears.
Then I understood.
- Mike Wood