Being able to have a clear mind, is a gift.
Not everyone can just think about nothing because there always seems to be the pulling factor.

The thing that shades our thinking away from the purpose.
That unreliable object that tugs our sense of hope and thought, cuts off our destination and rearranges the inevitable.

The feeling of not being able to set foot into the future, or thriving into the present
Darkness is condemned, but not appreciated.
Light is glorified, but never restricted.

Good can never overcome the evil, but your freedom is never guaranteed.
The aspirations and passions are merely dreams without your liberty.
The justice and hope to fulfill your emptied soul relies on freedom.
The underdog dog of sacrifice offers back its freedom

Throwing tampered thoughts into oblivion is throwing unjust opportunity into the unforsaken past
But how is freedom perceived and can it be held?
It can only be held in the eyes of the forgotten
It's only recognized in the hands of the beaten and spat upon
It only gets its name from the ones that break down its meaning and tear it to shreds               
The mind can't think, back against the wall, freedom is shadowed by the trails that contribute to heartache.
Only the meaning can be found within the story behind the words, except the pages are blank awaiting for a tale to tell.