I rise without bricks, By hands near the sea. A kingdom of grains That won’t long be. Waves are my rivals, Time is my foe. Built with great care, Yet destined to go.

In darkened corridors they lead the way, beams of hope breaking shadows, guiding lost souls through night’s maze, yet silent as the moon’s gaze.

It can be a pain in your side. Or protect a perennial It can be sharp, I have to confide To not believe it, would be denial.

One from the pack, A Trite cage, it's true, Burn me alive, I'm the one that hurts you

It’s feel hard on the outside, but if you open the slit, -by just a bit- you’ll find it moist and salty by the bayside Other times, you might get lucky, and find a pearl Your fingers might get mucky if you give it a swirl