Even though he could see they weren't impervious.
His rhythms seemed static,
The pleasant boundaries pulsing in place.
It was those times when people asked him to move beyond the walls.
He hadn't made the walls, but they still felt sacrosanct.
He felt anxious when he approached them.
Walls that meant nothing except his confused sense of duty to an abstraction that he couldn't wrap his mind around.
There were limits to his thinking.
As he fought off the tortured stories of mistrust he sensed all around,
He fought the walls themselves.
He struggled to answer the unspoken questions.
Why couldn't he break them?
When would he be as tall as the walls themselves?
He had no answers.
He only saw the systems locked in place.
His foolish feet planted.
A beat statically repeating.