Tensheds
morning comes with honoured waves, vision less demons crowd the maze, behind the fence is built what they call freedom, but its nothing more than a place to start from, as shaddows hang amidst borrowed times, we're still living free behind invisible lines, while the lake seems full of crowning desire, ashes still burn far beyond the mire, and a willows treetop cold and bare, from the eye in the sky fixed upon its golden glare, we're still drawing breaths to seek beyond, all was empty before it belonged