The thought drifts in the wind of time,
redefining space in the process.
The wall once a lofty dream has come to an end,
bending rubber under pressure.
Entering ways that were meant to remain shut,
the feet scurry for safety,
the noose is set for destruction,
baited with lies of prosperity,
the eyes widen,
as the flesh indulges
the mind slumbers
blind to danger
the snare snaps
leaving the reward
the silent rests,
awaiting to be buried in trash,
the spirit lifts
no longer afraid
the thought drifts.