Like a dove, like an angel,
slipping past the fingers trying to contain
choosing the wide expanse
the clear bright sky
what will it bring, will it be better,
will it be worse, can it be worse
with the freedom gained?
How does one endure a prison of glass,
yet a prison all the same
bow one’s head and try to play the part
or defiantly break away from that which is expected
and find your own path?
Is in our nature to heed the wishes of those above
do we let ourselves be bewitched by the charisma
of the ones that spin a wheel before your eyes
yet how gullible we’ve become
that we in the end do obey…Yes, free thought, you’re like an angel, like a dove…
Like a dove, like an angel
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