This life of mine, through their tinted glass,
was one of pure liberation,
yet right outside of those rims,
was the freedom that brought confusion.
A fish from the river, out in the sea,
swims around in circles, where to go?
Adored bird of the cage, escaped and free,
fears the clouds above, the land safer to be...
And it is not their fault- its burned in,
the limitlessness igniting a fear,
a fear that was the absolute desire,
now a curse- around like shackles
Those that don’t own it, yearn for it,
and those who do, they yearn to throw it,
its a path to greatness- undoubted,
for the fearless and mindless to own,
its a world that ought to be crafted,
to destroy the fear of banks and iron rods.
Universe- an idea, a myth of the infinite soul,
its a nation for the vagabonds and old,
and dreams the newborns of now,
for a door without a threshold to cross.