They carved the locks from oath and bone,
From names no tongue should speak.
Not every gate was built for pride,
Some guard what makes us weak.
The hinges hum with old regret,
The stone remembers why—
For what we sealed was not a fear,
But what would make us lie.
Some doors were sealed to protect the world,
Not to keep us from our due.
Some truths are storms in waiting
That tear the brave in two.
If the lock resists your knocking,
And the key feels cold and cruel—
Remember: not all thresholds
Were meant for you.
We called it loss, we named it theft,
We swore the past was wrong.
But every chain we tried to break
Was holding something strong.
Behind the stone, behind the fire,
A promise carved in flame:
“This stays asleep so dawn may rise,
And children keep their names.”
Some doors were sealed to protect the world,
From the weight of perfect might.
Some powers feed on wanting
Till nothing’s left but night.
When the seal begins to whisper
That you alone are true—
Ask what the door is guarding
From you.
Not every silence is a lie,
Not every lock a crime.
Some cages hold the storm at bay
Until the end of time.
Some doors were sealed to protect the world,
And mercy set the stone.
The bravest hand is not the one
That claims the dark alone.
If you stand before the threshold
With a crown you think you earned—
Walk away, and let the world live,
Unburned.
