Who says, that one who appears to be free,
Is not Confined Within?

Who says, that those who seem fulfilled, 
Are not Breaking Within?

Somewhere in all of us, 
Resides a prisoner;
As we make our way, 
through Life and Pursuits.

The prisoner inside gets stifled,
Choked up in its own gag;
It screams, “Let me out. Let me free.”
Desperate to taste the freedom outside.
But little does it know that, 
Even the walls-of-smoke, blossoming,
On our naked charred bodies,
Is not free-living!

Who says, that one who appears to be free
Is not Confined Within?