C4C, sloppier than the latest thing I put up, but, why not slap it up here? As per usual, grammer and puncuation will be fixed as it is discovered, have fun.

Of Freedom, To Fight For.
A distance that is common course for a morbid minds creation,
freedom still in which we wait, hunting a minds elation.
Lie in wait hands on fate, parting ways with prayer,
Little more than a flittering care, a wasted allegation.

Pushing aside the feeble of mind,
We strive constantly for a something that is wrapped in a thousand nothings,
This, at all stages, tantalises our minds and our fingertips,
a rush, natural high, which eventually tears us apart...
At long last deeming us incomplete and useless,
Yet never does one find what they forever hunger, they settle for,
Shall they forevermore

like I said, sloppy, its still a work in progress, and hopefully I can take this somewhere, or just drop it ha ha, like I said C4C, leave a link.