Atop the Highest Atalaya

Atop the Highest Atalaya

She stands atop the highest atalaya of her alcazar and looks west; her eyes searching, seeking, but sighting no one; only miles of emptiness past her desolate city. The gates of her city are shut and there is not one soul, save her, in the city. And she does not leave her watch, her watch atop the highest tower in her concrete bastion.

She offered him her love, pure and unadulterated, and in return asked for nothing more than the same. He acquiesced and all was well for a time. Yet, it was not to be, for he saw the world and its many delights in a different light than she. Her love for him did not suffice, for he did not love her truly, not in the same manner as she.

Soon, the offerings of another with all the accoutrements it brought along drew him away and he abandoned her to pursue his life with this other. Bereft of his companionship, she despaired and in her madness drove one and all from her city and barred her gates.

And now, every day, all day, she stands atop the highest watchtower in her concrete citadel, her heart adamantine, her eyes peering towards the west, yearning for the chimera of his return.

She continues to look to her past, while her present passes her by, leaving her with no future.

– Musings of the deranged bard
20141022 17:13 hr

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