In reckless abandon,
you ink your thoughts.
Rapacious for freedom,
Steadfast for your cause.

Is there madness abound,
In the methods you enlist?
A wanton desire in your being,
the world to undo at its seams.

Is it passion that drives, this your quill?
Impetuous and without pause
Or are you in life, simply adrift?
A rebel with too many a cause.

Accuse you I shall to my heart's content,
The victim I shall blame
For I am with you but in this unjust world
it's you versus my ilk

Maybe true freedom it means,
to fight me and men.
With this scribbling of ink
and this unruly your pen.