Columns.

It was another sunny day when I sat observing these huge columns that had always been a part of the landscape but something that I never really truly took the time to appreciate, to sit beside and spend time with.

I knew that if I wanted to climb these columns I could. I would be admitted to the elite club at the pinnacle of these pillars, I held the proper tones and the proper place in society. I moved closer to the columns and indeed a small rungs emerged where there was nothing before. I wondered if I should bother climbing such a thing, seeing what sort of select few could possibly unlock the secrets of these great Doric columns.

I decided to sit for awhile longer at the base, I saw messages carved there. I saw faces at the bottom of the pillar. I saw men holding the pillar there, they were not titans nor demi-gods like you are told in myths, they were not immortal powerful beings. They were those who had to work to survive rather than those who own to survive. They were holding this pillar, keeping sturdy a world above unseen to the elite few far far away in their hidden homes. I knelt down to speak with the men there hoping to hear their voices and their tales though sadly they could not speak, I could not hear their voices, I could not hear their tales. They were the voiceless.

So I sat still, between two worlds.