The walls are as thick as the mantle.
With the strength of diamonds
And the capacity of the universe,
Holding everything you know
And everything you cherish,
Creating love and hate,
Violence and peace,
It can destroy you,
Or make you.
As you grow,
The matter contained within
Expands. It presses hard against
These fortress walls, wanting
More than anything to be released.
The pressure is forceful
Wanting to break free.
It screams loudly, and pounds
Against the sides. Slowly,
But surely it gets ignored.
The gates to this fortress are made
Of gold and precious stones. They are
Hand carved from marble and agates, all
Onlookers stare in awe. Each person
Full of jealousy, and would love to get their
Hands on something so beautiful, so
Full of life.
Little do the impressions give to show
The dwindling flame inside. The flame to
Which there is no essence, no heat, no
Light. The flame which will flare up when
Given fuel, but quickly dies down to nothing but
A small spark. A spark with nothing more
To give, nothing more to gain.
There is no escaping, no salvage,
And no way to ignore. The walls are
Impenetrable, the walls give no lenience.
The walls just are, only the essence, the heat,
And the light of another can make the spark
Inside become a roaring blaze once more.
