Socially active,

He felt comfortable in such interactions.

Everything seemed easy and stable.

He had a lot of friends,

The friends which provided support

[To the level he let them give it, though.]

He truly thought

That this was the relief he needed

[Because he was the one who controlled.]

He conducted his involvement:

The level of the emotions he gave out.

Well, his friends didn’t ask for more.

[It is especially convenient, right?]

He ruled over his feelings

[Or at least he thought he did.

But who cares? No one knows.

A good way to proceed, indeed.]

He felt especially proud

That this way his life was balanced

And so marvelously managed.

[Oh, someone even may feel envious,

‘Cause don’t you find him quite composed?]

He ruled over his feelings…

Until his feelings were shaken with a storm.

His excellently built fort

[Which seemed to be made of stone,]

                                         Started shaking

because the foundation was actually of straw.

He tried to save his cracking walls:

By trying to dominate the world.

But the storm doesn’t obey the person

Who doesn’t have the courage

To face his own soul.

Why? He handled his life so well:

Never had his balance been so shaky before!

Why was his base made of straw?

How did he manage to ignore?

He exhausted himself

Trying to rebuild his life the way it was before.

He wasn’t ready to accept his feelings,

Let alone to show them to the globe.

He was used to controlling and planning

[But can’t plan when it's already roaring, right?]

And even if he wanted to find the way out,

What else could he do when he didn’t know another way around?!

He stopped.

And watched the walls collapse with acceptance.

[Actually they didn’t need long to fall.]

Their downfall was not because of the gale,

But ‘cause he could no longer oppose

What he desired all along.

The desire to be understood and accepted,

Which he had hidden once after being rejected…

He looked over his ruined fort

With dejection and a deep thought.

What should he do with this acceptance?

Why is it so hard to know?

He stood amid the rubble and remains,

Noticing, for once, the silence after storms—

How quiet the world seemed, stripped of the walls.

Perhaps, it was time to let himself be known,

To let the breeze touch even the bruised parts,

And allow his heart to grow roots,

This time without the need for stones or straw.

As he let his defenses fade one by one,

he found, within himself, a strength that remained.