Inexplicably why does one want to be free?
Is it to be free of chaos,
Or the freedom of ideas that lead to enmity?
Is it free of good and evil,
Or the feeling of haunting guilt in memory?
Is it to be fee of confusion,
Or all the things that lead us to that mystery?
Is it to be free of what others think,
Or the neurotic disturbance of our sanity?
Is it to be free of early years,
Or the anxious flowing of feeling aimlessly?
Is it to be free of fearing death,
Or the enticement to run away from that tragedy?
… But isn’t everyone’s life a tragedy at the end?? …