The wilderness beguiles,

A vast, empty space,

For the wild child.


An infinite range,

A painted portrait,

Never any change.


Balls of dust,

Sweep through fields,

And machines of rust.


Not a word,

Not a sound,

Nothing heard.


Gentle winds blow,

Thundering hooves,

Roaming they go.


Poisonous cloud,

Blankets with darkness,

Like a looming shroud.


When freedom roams,

In a silent world,

Anywhere is home.