The air is cold
As the look on my master's face
I hear the wind speak my name

A lot depends on me getting free
Distant echoes of angry voices fill the air
They're coming for me

I need to hurry
Run as fast as my legs will take me
Coming to a stop

As I feel the trees for moss
It points to the north
My freedom

I look to the moon for courage
Clutching my chest as I try to catch my breath
Running faster and faster

To my freedom

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