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?