It feels a little new,
To talk of days of old.
I feel so much more free,
These shackles thrown wayside.
I want to locate my words,
They get lost in translation.
To explain my desire,
Is just sucking smoke through a straw.
So much stronger,
In the knowledge I have gained.
You are looking down as if disappointed,
I am looking onward with wide eye.
I no longer crave some approval,
It was false profits that we worshiped.
I want to gaze upon my new moon landing,
And plant a flag upon conquering.
I am Cortez to your ceremony, destroying simple heartfelt beliefs.