My Last Duchess - Object of the stares

Though I had been gone for many years my spirit lived in a wall. what kind of a wall it was I had no idea. or what kind of a painting I was in I didn’t know either. all I could do was to trust on the artist, that he or she had been able to captivate my looks. All I could see was the people, so many people constantly looking at me, staring at me like I was their possession. I could not close my eyes, not to cover my face with my hands or run away. I was a prisoner captivated in minds of those who were looking at the painting. Most painful person to watch me was my duke. Some times he spent hours and days just looking at me, trying to catch at least one sign that would tell him I wasn’t really gone. I think he knew.