What’s free will?
Are we really free,
or a gyroscope fixed to its setting?
Are we ***** swinging by laws,
predestined by angles we didn’t choose,
or a voice inside a box,
limited only by imagination—
unable to sense what lies outside,
never part of our design?
A creature of the plain,
oblivious to highs and lows.
The roads we take are born
from our thoughts alone.
What makes it spark—
like infinite firecrackers
bursting the sky?
What’s beyond that marvelous blue,
realms that refuse our imagination?
Are we confined to these lands,
never meant to venture further?
What makes us free,
shackled by our limits?
From the first pop
to eternal silence,
it’s all recorded in slate.
Feb 11
Feb 11, 2026 at 3:12 AM UTC
What’s free will?
Are we really free,
or a gyroscope fixed to its setting?
Are we ***** swinging by laws,
predestined by angles we didn’t choose,
or a voice inside a box,
limited only by imagination—
unable to sense what lies outside,
never part of our design?
A creature of the plain,
oblivious to highs and lows.
The roads we take are born
from our thoughts alone.
What makes it spark—
like infinite firecrackers
bursting the sky?
What’s beyond that marvelous blue,
realms that refuse our imagination?
Are we confined to these lands,
never meant to venture further?
What makes us free,
shackled by our limits?
From the first pop
to eternal silence,
it’s all recorded in slate.
