A Dream Called Freedom

I'm being held by an impossibly unbreakable bond.
Unbreakable; untouchable.
A cycle that goes around, endlessly.
I need a fresh page, a new beginning.
An image of a butterfly, chained by a metal grip.
The walls caving in, as I get a single hold on the world.
The taste of freedom so near.
As I reach out, the bond grips tighter and tighter, until I can't
feel anything anymore.
Like a spider's web, the bond holds on, and there's no hope.
Yet, for some reason, you don't let go of that image, that
Dream of freedom.

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