I was born perfect in circumstances,
but now i cannot speak...

Tis troubling indeed,
but i am not reviled...

This is not happening,
i am lost in my own paradigm...

The old trees no nothing of murder,
the grass yearns of innocence...

The stones lay at Life's bidding,
mere dragon's breath churns the soul...

Now living the life of a mute he Crys,
For a new hope, or find anew...

When he speaks we know,
we speak yet silence is enlightening...

This cell is dank and beckons souls,
My worries do not result to just me...

To be free is to assemble to anything,
To overt your senses into caring to humanity...

I see everything,
as the sage ponders...