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.