IDIOSYNCRACIES_DYS

Swathed
With the warmth of this shell,
All i can feel is its gloss and its air.
Breathe and move little by little,
Locomotion
is limited.
But growth,
is not restricted.
This shell,
is my barrier-
A shield for wrong discernment.
Still,
I deserve respect.
Only,
This is where I find complacence.
But shells are made temporary.
Soon,
it will break to a hundreds of pieces.
And that's when I can unleash
the blaze within.
I'm helpless,
I need to do this on my own,
Coz' if you'll break this by force.

Death will be mine.