I am barren soil,
A barren soul,
Where nothing can thrive.
At a lower place on the surface,
No seeds to sow,
The trauma I never saw,
Swallowed by plague.
Respiration in vain,
No alimentation to feed my inner light.

I cannot thrive.
My roots are firmly bound.
You cannot burn my fire.
I am the seed that will grow even if you bury me six feet under.