The Purge

Nowadays I maintain a small boundary My world is kept concealed My world is kept within a grasp Because my world has fragile life forms It became fragile itself. Since I can no longer run whenever I want I made my stationary stance a home Most sounds stirs my compulsory hibernation So I must keep my ears on plug I must always deflect a growing attachment. Shutting instead of looking calms me down I have learnt the value of staying in the ground Though my dreams are enough, memory is overflowing I'll consume a portion each day until it's empty Then maybe if I have spare space, I'll just give it away.