In the quiet solace of my fortress stern,
Walls rise stone by stone, where silent shadows learn.
Each brick, a whispered secret, a guarded tear,
Built to shield the heart from the thrust of fear.
A mason of solitude in twilight’s embrace,
Crafting barriers thick, every joy to efface.
Yet beneath this bastion against the storm’s roar,
Lies a trembling spirit, yearning to soar.
These walls, these ramparts of cold, unyielding gray,
Hold the world at bay, yet keep my own self away.
For in the sanctum where I hide my heart’s cries,
The best of me withers, the truest part dies.
Oh, painful paradox of protection’s scheme,
To lock away life where no hurt can intervene.
A fortress too perfect, no sorrow seeps through,
Yet starved of the tears, joy is fleeting too.
How daunting, this task, to dismantle what I’ve built,
To tear down these defenses around the guilt.
Brick by brick, a deconstruction of fear,
A painful undoing, a hope drawing near.
With each stone unsettled, a light breaches in,
Stirring dust-covered dreams, feeling once more begins.
The walls I had raised to keep out the night,
Now crumble to let in the morning’s first light.
And so I learn as the barriers fall,
The heart shields itself but feels nothing at all.
True strength lies not in the walls we create,
But in the brave, tender hands that unmake.
Witnessing self both the builder, the breaker,
A soul’s quiet journey as its own reawakener.
To build and to break, in a cycle renewed,
Finding the courage to live life unimproved.
0 Comments