HOME

The freedom of choice
when options are scarce.
The will to walk out on your own.
When there's hope of finding the new.
And you know you don't yet know yourself
And you hope to.

Where there's no walking out,
there's home.
Where there's almost anything at hand, there's home.

The knowledge of what will be missed.
And the looking forward to this forward.
The ease that is in not looking over the shoulder,
Yet when you do, it's a field of an opposite charge.
Pleases you, doesn't it?

Where you can't just fire your way back to, that's home.
Where a moth waits for you, that's home.
Where I did a bit reckon what wasn't up for counting.
That exact chunk which is now valued, is home.

When north faces north, is where I am.
Where South faces south, that's home.

Where red is the former, leather the later.
Where a language you can breathe is in the air,
That very field, that a magnet awaits...
Where Iron hearts lie, that's home.

Where you know the maps might change
But where you'll find your way back, That home.
Where there are mines around comrades of mine,
Where a soldier saves a weapon for he is too kind.
Here's where I imagine what there'd be like,
and you don't.
'Coz I'm strolling at the unintended south
and you're home.