She didn’t really know what was happening. Everything around her was shaking, all the walls were crumbling, but she remained, still standing.
She didn’t resist the cries for help and the reaching hands that groped her firm walls. To do so would be cruel. Instead she welcomed the masses and opened her doors and found herself filled with burden and misery.
But she was a strong fortress, who remained standing during the storm, and within her walls tears somehow found relief. Within her walls, the tortured somehow found safety and comfort.
Everything around her was laid waste. An empty and barren land returned her intense gaze. The horizon whispered for to come, come find peace. The weight within her held in her place. Or was she holding the weight in place, saving the already desolate landscape from a flood of destruction.
The beating against her walls was constant. Like a drum, reminding her of her strength. She was a fortress, and although everything else around her swayed, she stood still and unmoved.