(A strong wind blows by while I walk.
It curls it's tendrils of air
and caresses my face,
drifting alonside me on my journey.)

Leaves crunch beneath my feet,
shoes creating a steady beat.
I ponder while I trudge alone;
lost in dreams of things I'd thought I'd known.
While man's metal humanity is drenched in lies-
corrupt in greed and power, hungry eyes-
life outside of society is a sigh of relief;
a place to protect your last belief
that you've carried with you all this way,
and held your strength through the day.
The same crisp air speaks to me now,
Whispers in my ear to slow down,
and heed it's ancient words so wise:
dying is not a curse- but a prize.
To have come so far and suffered much
and finally escaped pressure's clutch.
Beating the battle we face each day
of fighting down others to have the final say
of what we do and who we are-
breaking out of windows barred-
to float away with the freeing breeze...
and leave despair crumples on it's knees.