Sealed Window Pane

Clear, not vague, but tangible,
Rigid, strong, and loyal,
It's only a door that never frees,
Those born in the guardian's hand.
Trapped.

Inside the division it's warm,
Outside could perhaps be cold,
But a seesaw could not swing if the warmth is heavy,
And the cold could not reach the ground.

A tornado could not trespass,
Not even a zephyr could enter,
I lay my cheek against it,
The fresh cold feeling it gives.

Wonder why it was there,
Wonder why it is still,
My ears could hear the whistling,
My eyes could see the view.