And we have no time to fall
Back into old practice
That we abandoned in our youth
Writing love and fairy tales
In third person defection
With a pen that bleeds from exertion
A dream enshrined in its cage
Decay creeping in at the corners
And my words fading away...
A stagnant lake, poised in my fingers
A page now barren and bare
No way to enrage old emotion
Few thoughts dare to be written there
It seems so human to exiles
I wonder that they have not caged me
In promises I made when we were reborn
When the world was still shrouded in mystery
And not in infernal misery
The impressive escapism of our convicts
But not those that should have walked free
Freedom restrained without dignity
The same old parallel within me
I once saw myself in children's fables
The oppressed bird that finds wings to fly
Managing to evade their conflict
But my dream was lost in a sigh.
My dream still floats on by
