Above the waves sat an unfinished castle,
empty of things, empty of life.
Men labored
Lifting bricks of glass
Straining to finish the house
Shining by the sea.

Light contorts through the squares of glass,
Wind whistles through the crystals.
And when the sun sets, glass glistens like blood
And when darkness falls, blood fades into ink.
The waves crash onto the beach like worms on granite.

Glass splinters
and cracks.
The builders unseeing, leave.
Wind whistles
And glass becomes a harp.

The castle of glass sits still
A fortress forlorn
Guarding against nothing but the air and the salt of sea-spray
Glass is fragile.
Waves grasp bits -