XVI The Tower
The city is made of glass. See how the buildings touch the sky like the Tower of Babel?
Were we meant to fly? Were we meant to walk amongst the clouds in the realm of the Gods?
See how the children climb their gilded cages; lost in never ending spirals reaching up to heaven. And once we reach the top and find that heaven lies not at the end of our man-made dreams; it is the loss of innocence that sends us crashing down.
Is it be better to hold on to a lie because it gives us hope; or is it be better to know a truth that throws us off the edge of deception into the abyss below?
What have we wrought with pearls we once held sacred; how is it they slip through our fingers like fine grains of sand in a blink of an eye?