Freedom is gone

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The late night is gone, and the black morning hour holds the earth in its arms. The prisoner is breathless, as he leaves the safety of his cell. The distant brightness of blue and dark and the whiteness of the wall, a couple of shots were fired--the ...

The late night is gone,
and the black morning hour holds the earth in its arms.
The prisoner is breathless, as he leaves the safety of his cell.
The distant brightness of blue and dark
and the whiteness of the wall,
a couple of shots were fired--the wall turned red.
The freedom is over now!
Too late to ask: How?
It's too late to beg for another glance,
It's too late to cry when all is done.
It's too late to try and change the past.
In the end, you'll realize you're the only one.
But don't blame yourself--
for freedom is gone!
And the world left wrong,
too late to ask: How?

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