Freedom is a drug,
one last drop of a final horizon,
arsenic on the skin, in your eyes, down your throat.

Its poisonous,
deadly in its life giving.
It gives a world to live in,
a peaceful anarchy,
a day with sunlight.

But it is a drug,
it's an addiction,
as a race, an existence,
we are addicted.

We can't stop,
we'll run into the sun until we burn.
We will all die, crying with joy,
fighting our entire lives,
tied down by our longing for freedom.

Words are worse than any ghost,
You haunt my dreams and wreck my heart,
Please leave me be and let me sleep.

You can see her as a prize,
Or you can see her as a puzzle,
Either way she is indifferent,
Unfeeling, unseeing,
Cold to the touch,
Heart only beating through one last thread,
Shes almost dead.

I flippant,free,
vanilla cream on  your Sunday coffee,
the last memory of a pleasant dreams.