Breaking free, cunning ruse
Established to free us from the truth
Can we see? Or is sight blind?
Will we forgo what is left behind?
Can one go back? Can it be undone?
If we're scared can we turn and run?
Which is our reality?
Fighting figment fantasy?
Is it cold and dull and stark?
Til death do leave his mark
Or is it bright, colorful, and pure
Derived by thoughts
The wills of the strong
Control our fate
Sing your swan song
When the end is near
We could be free
When truth stands alone
For once, it might be easy.