you speak of freedom as if its free
not knowing that there's a fee.
A fee of heart, a fee of soul,
A piece of nothing, that is ultimately everything
you speak of freedom,
but your not free.
you beg and plead and hope to understand
but its always just out of grasp
slipping through your fingers like sand
awakened by the harsh rasp at your door
telling you its time to go to war.
Freedoms not free.
not to you. not to me.