At the peak of the red morning, I was invited to the great wall. We were assembled like soldiers in a line we could hardly maintain. They cast a blueish green light upon us, then the voices roared from the walls at disorienting frequencies. The jewels upon my neck, the gold on my sandals, and the twists in my hair all came undone. I was dismantled before the walls and my words trembled parallel to the gaps in the wind. I have seen many drop their very selves before the wall and I have heard the cries in my sleep, but I have just as clearly heard the celebrations in my dreams. I handed myself to the great wall in paper and ink. Upon my submission, I floated back into my sleep and allowed the promises of my dreams to conquer my reality.
A month older, 31 red skies later, the loud voices called out to me, 'I cannot agree with you because I cannot see behind you nor do I know inside you. For that, I cannot accept you, but I will allow you to persuade me again. When next you come, strip bare and poor your heart upon my white walls. Then, will I consider you. Until then, be gone.' Immediately, I fell into a restless sleep that carried broken dreams into the hearts of my children, my grandchildren, and my ever known lineage.
I hope we stay sleep forever.