In a dark and dreary, desolate place,
encompassed fully by stone brick,
there were many souls who tried to live,
but the darkness was too thick.
They called this prison Endless Wall
because that’s all they ever felt.
They knew it was destroying them,
and loathed the darkness that it dealt.
One day they heard a voice outside;
it sounded muffled through the stone.
But still they understood the words
that seeped in from the unknown.
“Speak to me, my worthy friends;
those of you who think you’re small.
Have no doubt that I can hear you
from this side of Endless Wall.”
Some perked up and listened close
while putting ears to scathing stone.
They were surrounded by each other,
yet shocked to know they weren’t alone.
“Hello, out there?” One voice called out.
“You can’t be real.” Another said.
“Oh, I’m as real as real can be,
and I know, for I’ve been dead.
“My friends inside, please speak to me!
I’ll echo back philosophy!
As we confer, you will grow tough,
and slow progress will be enough.”
“You can escape that wretched place.
(It’s a just a giant tomb, you know.)
And you can break through Endless Wall
with persistence, blow by blow.
Some of the souls took on the dare
and spoke philosophy right there.
They contemplated wrong from right
and learned to kindle inner light.
When they went back to Endless Wall,
they were fresh and new and sound.
They each picked out a single brick,
and on that brick, began to pound.
It took days, or ages, but they were fierce.
They used their minds and hands.
And eventually, each soul would pierce
through Endless Wall to see new lands.
As they climbed and floundered out,
each saw completely different places,
but they all saw one another then –
and how the sun shined on their faces.
They looked for the philosopher;
the one who helped them all break free,
but all they could find together was
a modest gravestone under a tree.
The gravestone had a message
that was different for each and all,
but one thing they all agreed upon
was that it was cut from Endless Wall.