The beauty of the early morning is missed,
When you’re stuck in rush-hour pissed.
In the wilderness it’s different; almost mystic,
The scene reveals itself slowly, it’s artistic.
The privilege of enjoying it; you are blissed.
Paths of life are fenced shut.
Gaurded and patrolled.
Its really hits your gut,
Seeing your life so controlled.
You can only choose the path ahead,
Its the one path to take.
Enless your looking for dead.
Even breaking free is a giant mistake.
Your dreams are deemed lies,
By the grasp of authority.
Your future dies,
When you line up with the majority.
What we strive to be, can be no longer,
When their grasp on our future, is ever so stronger