He was still. His glazed emerald eyes stared blankly out from under a hood at the wall being erected around him. A dark cloak immortalised in black stone hid his frail body. Stuck in time he watched them. Ignored by society. Just a shadow of a memory, he was everything but, he was nothing. They said it was an honour, that he would be respected for all of time. But still, he stood there. Watching, waiting for it. Watching life, watching it grow then die. Waiting for the world to end, guardian of the people but betrayer of the people.
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"Classic"
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