Free

Where will we all be?

Where will we find the sea,

of open roads,

of uncharted visages,

of limitless fences.

Where is that light?

where is that peace,

where are the embers,

of a childhood apiece.

If the end is delivery,

in the journey of a recluse,

the promise of both,

is a neglected memory.

We want to fight,

we want to live,

give us woe,

give us song,

when will we get a peek,

of a freedom we so long.

Young,

we are.

Free,

it is.