Lights travel across the dark horizon
A chilling breeze tickles the back of my neck
I feel trapped in a rush,
A rush created by others' worldly dreams
Dreams that punish me, and interrupt my dreams of passion, hope, and light
Dreams that cast a shadow so dark that it hides my freedom, my hope.
For these worldly dreams dreamt up by others who think passion is a dollar figure or a portfolio of concrete accomplishments are keeping me and my love hostage on opposite ends of this dirty playing field.
I wear a mask, to try and escape my prison, to try and blend in.
Aggravated and sore from my masks that put heavy burdens on my soul, I lose touch with where I am trying to go.
I feel an itch as a hard gust of wind sweeps across the mountain top, angry that I'd interrupted its flight.
I cry out one last time, and my voice echos through the air.
...but of course, it is not heard over the rush of our evil prison guards.
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