When I was young,
I would stand by the lake.
Watching the cascading ripples,
Of Aqua Marine.

They would show me memories,
Dreams...
Fantasies.

I would breathe,
Not choking on stale air.
Not suffocating,
On the reality of life.

I felt free.
Free...
As the wolf inside of me.

Sometimes though,
You have to return.
To keep making a living,
To survive this world.

Maybe,
There is more than meets..
The eye.