Freedom, that glorious principle
Men live for it, as they die for it
Freedom means many things, each unique to the thinker
Freedom to speak, to write, to faith
What is freedom to me?
Freedom is standing at the mouth of an abyss
Staring into hell, choosing my path
Freedom is the wind at my back, the rain on my skin
A storm, reigning over the world
Freedom is the choice
Freedom is all of the choices
To choose, it is mans greatest gift
That which separates us from the wild
Freedom is thinking before you speak
And speaking before you think
It is a contradiction, a confusion
The right to not make sense
What is freedom?
Freedom is me
Freedom is you
Freedom is us.
And us, my friends, us is a wonderful thing