• Echoes of the falling rain.
    People howling in vain.
    Heavenly tears falling from the sky.
    I heave my head to clouds and cry.

    Never asked for this pain.
    To be bound by a burning chain.
    Grow me wings so I can fly.
    Before the grip tightens, death’s nearby.

    Sweet salvation, gliding through thin air.
    Touching clouds white and fair.
    Cut loose from the chains of life.
    Saved from the thorns of death.

    Freedom