Stationary

You are standing,

standing in the shadow of a magnificent statue,

The figure is an authority,

but it is one you cannot quite fathom,

its great bearded face looks down on you with pity,

its pride is ashamedly prominent,

it turns its nose up in a not so subtle way,

you remain standing,

the shadow of the statue encompasses the majority of the brilliantly medieval hall you reside in,

it fills you with hope but also with another, less admirable quality,

you remain in the shadow of the statue,

it leers down at you as you realise you may never escape,

you attempt to move but you remain standing,

you make plans that do not come to fruition,

because they require you to move,

and you cannot move for fear of not becoming the statue,

that great authority,

the respected face of your dreams,

you try to sit and the statue smiles,

you are bowing down to their will,

immovable, a juggernaut in your laziness,

your fingers twitch as you realise your apathy is your downfall,

you can move after all,

the statue frowns and pumps its iron fist,

you are forbidden from escaping the machine,

you are a slave to your society,

but no longer,

you remain standing,

but you are outside the shadow now,

you laugh at the bearded fiend and you open the great oak door,

you are free,

you are standing,

you remain standing in your new home,

outside the shadow, and you begin to walk towards your own personal sunset,

sweet freedom.

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