M1DNAA

With the heavy tread of one soon dead Down a corridor of steel and steam His head raised up to the heavens above Thoughts of far, of life and love He wandered off into a dream Gone the noise, the machines and lead Gone the perpetual sense of dread Back to the darkening fields of grass His fur had a shine As he shook off the brine Like a coat of blackened blown glass To run, as he wished but never could To live for an eternity but feared he never would But in his dream His eyes did gleam Whatever he wished as action Was not the choice of faction No more Free Every action his own Free The taste of fresh meat in his mouth F