No way out

It is four cornered
Tightly sealed and yet slightly loosed
Letting the air flush in
Bringing in with it unpleasant odour of struggle...
Held bound with chains
Running east and west
Rolling like stones without directions
Scattered around and kicked once more
By nonchalant passer-by
Watching with curiosity as their eyes bulge out
And it still trails
But all starring like a sight to see
Yet no one puts a foot forward
To halt as they glide happily
Down the hilly mountains
But they have their hungry legs kicking daily
Trapping the pebbles in its four corners
And they turn away cheerfully
Because that is where the joy lies
When they become trapped
And stationary
They become controlled
As when their legs come over it again
It forces movement and to whatsoever direction
They can conjure easily
Because to the pebbles,
They are words they hearken to
But really it was just a cycle