Fool's Paradise

Freedom

A subjective concept,
Perhaps unachievable.
Humanity groans for it
But the answers to our endless questions are often inconceivable.

It's deceivable, truly.
When we mold it to make it believable.

Freedom

A release from submission,
The medicine to our condition;
Funny how it can't be prescribed by a physician

Though we crave it, it's simply a delusion.
When we stretch our hands towards it,
we only feel confusion.
The desire to be forever unchained is a mere illusion.

Freedom

Release from abuse.
But what's the use?
There's only so much optimism we can produce,
Repeatedly being asked, "What's YOUR excuse?"

Nobody sees the battles we face,
Our empty cries,
The time we waste.

Nobody sees the scars we cover,
The bruises we leave,
How we treat one another.

Nobody sees the sleepless nights,
Our running brains....
Against ourselves, we fight.

See, freedom is to break the chains of bondage:
To our minds
To our addictions
To toxic situations of all kinds.

But how human are we really, if we remove the blinds?
And see into the supernatural...
To the destinies that lie in the divine?

We'd lose the experience of personhood
If we set ourselves free.
We'd never feel low or mellow,
And what kind of life would that be?

We need the dark days,
We need the sorrows.
We need to be naive
To what lies ahead tomorrow.