The Barrier's Monologue

May 5, 2009
By Morgan Bachemin BRONZE, New Orleans, Louisiana
Morgan Bachemin BRONZE, New Orleans, Louisiana
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I was a glorious structure. I was the strongest wall, the toughest defense, and I reveled in that assumption. I lived to protect and shield all those lived under my shadows. Every stomach clenching, heart wrenching, awe-inspiring moment that I witnessed added another brick unto me.

I fed on their victories and starved in their defeats.
I flourished in their love and floundered in their hate.

I grew taller and taller until I blocked out the Sun.

I did not fear the wrath of the heavens. I was arrogant and self-assured in my respected strength. I was mightier than Goliath and David. Untouchable.

And they let me continue to grow because they thought I could protect them. I was praised. I was celebrated for being so strong, unable to broken by weapon or tool.

Beneath me, they lived their lives.

They fell in love, touched one another in the night, fought the cold and embraced the warmth only they could provide for one another.

And all the while, I stood and stood and stood and never faltered. The Sun beat down on me and the rain drenched my crevices. The wind eroded my edges taking small pieces of my being away in the wind. The birds perched upon me and watched the people with mild interest.

One day, they came out from behind me. Perhaps they heard a faraway sound or merely questioned the existence beyond my barriers. I pleaded with them to turn around and return to me.

Return to where I could protect them.

Alas, I could not move. So I stood and watched their tepid steps upon the soft, unspoiled earth. They turned their faces to the heavens and drank the warmth until it soaked their eyes and bones. Their skin glistened over my decaying skeleton and oh, how I wished I could embrace that essence. I could not. I reflected the light when I did not want to, but that was to be my fate as the greatest wall. I would always be stone cold, yet they would always be filled with enough warmth to melt my molten bones.

So they left.

They left to build new homes.
Homes with no walls.
No walls.
So the sun could shine upon their skin.
So the rain could flood their spirit,
So the wind could pass through their lungs.

I stood in the distance. I lived to protect them, how arrogant to think that my aegis would keep them entrapped. I could hear the echo of my internals, the wind hissing through my cracks. Were they what I was truly made of, instead of stone and clay? However empty I may have been, I was not angry with the people for not needing me anymore. With each sip of new life they took, I loved them a little more. They basked in the light and their spirits glowed anew. I desperately wished to form hands from stone and reach out to touch them. I feared the idea too much. So much energy, power, and brilliance would decimate me to mere dust and sand.

I do not want to stand any longer. I grow weaker and weaker with each passing minute. The softest whisper of wind threatens to break me down into millions of pieces. And yet, I would have welcomed the collapse.

I remembered the days of when I was beloved.
I represented solace and peace.
I was imprisonment and captivity.

I longed to waste away into nothing, to become rock and dirt for my lovely people to walk and build upon. No tower should stand alone, rotting, when it has nothing left to protect.

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