Have you ever felt isolation
From whom you really were
Created into something so amassed
Only for what others had prefer
Happiness is ripe for the picking
But is happiness not rotting within
Just another bruised fruit in the orchard
Just another torn soul wrapped in skin
The melting pot is completed for the year
Everyone stead at their rightful place
But you, chained in the middle
Lost in Labyrinth's embrace
The crowd's sap has thickened
Layers of conformity exist beneath
The little ant makes it's way downward
Eventually trapped within the bark's rough sheath
Gradually it suffers from hunger
The hunger for exemption and home
The shackles bind the poor ant
From the freedom to live and the freedom to roam
