Freedom

The stillness tries to break me
The quiet drives me mad
Plaster and plywood is my prison
The cheap building materials of poor white trash
I need to feel alive
To feel free under the night sky
The mother moon beckons
She wants me to release my hold
To let myself go
In debauchery and madness
In purity of action and thought
No pretension in desire
Can you hear my spirit begging
To exist beneath the heavenly bodies
To carve my place in nature
My existence is a lie
I act only how is expected
I'm not liberated to my inner desires
Escape is the only option
That or go completely mad