leaving the hidden many,

that urge us to stay,

within their mold of comfort,

all dolled up and pliant.


the air shall be free,

for the many who seek it,

yet find that where there is a light,

no matter how dim,

a switch is always present.


listen to the call,

where ever it shall lead, 

the enduring and tired pain,

that has been stored for ages,

within.