The poor clown.

Is that what they think of me

A blind-blathering fool

Who can no longer take the smallest of walks alone

Who are they to say what and who I need

They call for jokes but make me leave if I dare make mention of my own illness

Regardless of the context

And worse yet, they have forced a servant to be my own eyes

I hold no resentment for the poor boy

He was as forced into this agreement as I was

He opens the door.

I have not seen the inside of this room for a great many decades

Yet I still remember every detail

From the smallest cracks along the wainscoted walls

To the beautiful ocean-blue ceiling

He sits me down.

Do they think so lowly of me

To think I can’t apply my own medication

Curse them

Curse them all, I say!

I long for the days of old

When my sight was still strong

I miss my blue ceiling

And its tender reminder of life outside these walls

I was a man of nobility

Before I was punished for daring to want more

Suddenly, a faint voice calls out to me.

I perk my ears and listen

Nothing

I think it strange but pay it no mind

Until I hear it again

I ask the boy to my left if he can hear it as well

But I am left with a swift dismission

He jokes that I’m growing old

I stifle a scowl.

I try to let it go, but it rings out again

Only louder and much more clear

An invitation?

To what I think to myself

And in answer, I hear them in the back of my mind

An invitation to join a beautiful choir

One that will shape the very stone this castle lies on

Oh god, perhaps I am going mad

Not mad they say, only ahead of the curve

I try to silence the voice.

However, like how snakes throttle their prey

They maintain their iron grip, unwilling to move

Get out.

I can feel them worming through my brain

Whether physical or purely mental, I do not know

I scream out loud, get out!

The boy drops the medicine as he rushes to my side

Are you okay?

He asks, his cold hand, sending shivers through my pinstriped vest

I slap it away.

Even if I go mad, I shall never take his pity

His every word is tainted with that needling tone that I despise

I feel them in my very veins.

With each passing second, they get closer to the front of my head

To my old useless eyes

I feel sick to my stomach

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A cacophony of string instruments plays.

Within their songs, they promise me the impossible

Showing visions of a different world

One unfathomable to human eyes

I weep silently.

Unsure if it’s due to sadness or happiness beyond compare

A paradise not on this earth but rather within the stars

Hidden deep into the depths of another plane of existence

One only accessible through navigating the depths of the mortal coil

A beautiful, fervent parade dedicated to a glorious lord.

Oh, blessed be!

Oh, blessed be!

We are next in line to take part

And you have sent your messengers to ask me to join you

I have never felt so honored

But I cannot serve you.

My eyes they are faulty, not fit for your service

A poison made of plant toxins has been dripped into them

A singer's voice cuts through the deepest recesses of my mind.

I apologize, I do not understand what you’ve said

Once again the voice speaks, their voice ephemeral yet so soothing

I understand now.

I laugh and I laugh as I weep

The boy again asked me in a shaky voice what was happening

But I see through their attempt to deride me

And I let him know as such

I hear his footsteps while he runs to seek help

I cannot help but scream and laugh

I know he won’t make it

I hear his cough.

That evolves into gagging on his own blood

I hear a repulsing noise as something falls to the floor with a squish

He crashes against the dresser next to the door

Then the unthinkable happens

I can see.

I can see!

Oh, blessed be this dark night!

I can't see colors

Or rather I only see in shades of white, black, and brilliant crimson

But it does not matter

For I can now see more than I ever have before

I can see sounds!

I can see smells!

I could even see your glorious eyes right outside the balcony decorating the crimson sky

Praise be you beautiful being!

I look over to my servant

His organs, bones, and muscles spill out of his mouth

Emptying his vessel for a most clement lord to make use of

Once he has finished

He shall be nothing more than an empty pile of sentient flesh

Clinging to the plush red carpet

I chortle to myself

Then I hear it.

A song so beautiful I can not contain myself

I pirouette toward the balcony

My heart filled with gratitude

I see them.

Your cloaked messengers draped in the flesh of lesser beings

Adorned with your most spectacular symbol

Carved into their mouthless faces

Pleochroic jewels where their eyes once laid

Inhumanly tall, they raise their arms of bone and point toward the balcony doors

I understand what I must do.

I throw myself through the balcony in a state of euphoric mania

The glass shatters, cutting through my loathed pinstriped vest

I cannot help but cry as I yell out to the sky

Not in grief but rather as a way to announce my coming

I will join you soon in your parade

Away from this disgusting castle cell

Away from these fools who stifled me for oh-so-long

Away from that blue ceiling that was painted to keep chained

All the way to your much more liberating sea of eyes

I stumble my way through the balcony

Unable to keep still from sheer elation

I push myself up onto the stone railing.

I stand here, alone physically but surrounded in spirit

Your cloaked choir does not sing.

They line up behind me, watching my every move

It does not matter

For once, I begin to sing, they follow along with their hymns

Together we produce a grandiose song dedicated to you and you alone

With a voice that is not my own

I take the lead

It’s sweet and loud

It’s low and deep

It's pure perfection!

I thank you.

As I come to my final lyric, I have the best view of the city

For I can see it all now

The pointed tips of manors and chapels down to rundown streets

Where men, women, and children take their roles in your parade

Skin becomes bone, bone becomes muscle and muscle becomes lumps of skin

I swear to sing your hymns for as long as this parade ventures forth

I look into your million eyes in the sky

And with a bow, I fall off the railing

Laughing as I do in combination with their song

Which has now reached a fever pitch

A crescendo of song builds the lower I go!

It dwarfs every other noise in its vicinity!

Until the church bell rings with a brass cling.

A dark omen as another body crashes to the cold ground on this dreadful night.