Dream if you will,
Of a time when freedom,
Was more than a wish beyond iron bars.
Iron bars made by your own hands,
Strengthened with your own fears,
Held in place with your own doubts.

Dream if you will,
Of a time when freedom,
Was more than a distant wish,
In the form of a far away star,
Out of reach for your weakened hand,
Nearly impossible for you to begin to see.

Dream if you will,
Of a time when freedom,
Was still possible.
Freedom from your own condemning mind,
From your self-created damnation,
From your rock solid prison walls.

Dream if you can,
Of freedom.
A word you hardly recognize,
A word you struggle to remember,
Something you once knew outside your prison,
That contains your very soul.
Owns it.
Squeezes it.
Weakens it.

Dream if you can,
Of freedom.