Terracotta

I'm buying a ticket to China; to the country of past glory and civilization. I'm heading to the Terracotta museum for I'm sick ‘n tired of looking into human eyes. There I'll see clay eyes. Dusty at first sight, but talking of an ever shining past, of glory, of beauty, of people who had majesty. There I'll sit and play Bach on my iPod to read poetry. And to think how glorious it was to be a human.