I hold back a force that never rests, With walls of strength and no requests. I do not speak, yet scream I might, If cracks appear and show the light.

When you stop to look, you can always see me. But if you try to touch me, you can never feel me. Although you walk towards me, I remain the same distance from you. What am I?

part of the waxy word that seals a letter before its read measure the land with miles instead rhymes with the man who smells of bread

I am a place where life runs dry, Or a soul who leaves with no goodbye. Barren or barren-hearted, both can I be, A wasteland of sand... or of loyalty.

I spin without a sound, yet my path is bound, with life I am crowned