Hatch

I am an eggshell lacking the yoke inside. There is a thumping-thump-thumping quiet as a whisper of two who share a bed but fail to stay awake to hear their conversation's end. Or sometimes it bangs with the thundering underfoot of four horses, a chariot, and Helios all charging upwards towards noon. But always it asks in between cracks for a way out like a groan or a whimper flowing downstream to find freedom in the sea. Is it my ego or the Lord's that keeps this thumping imprisoned inside? There must be more to this life than life.