Through the Gates of Hell

Liberation is almost impossible, that's why it's only for the seldom strongly-willed individual.

I've recently learned that freedom comes at a high cost.
Though, as a nation we're supposedly free,
we're locked behind secrets individually.

Like biking up a hill,
The hardest part is to keep them.
Your knees grow weak and your legs become sore.
You're still at the bottom,
But aching for more.

As you climb towards the summit,
You wonder what's in store.
Will your sore legs betray you?
Will you crash to the floor?

As the bruises and bumps
Multiply on your thighs,
The burning sensation just presses you on
And the fear in your heart ignites flames as you depart.

The summit is within reach
But your knees have gone weak.
The strength is within you,
To press on and continue.

And though the top hurts like hell,
Your uphill battle is behind you.
And downhill from here,
Your tracks will remind you
That trailblazing isn't easy,
But your past can't define you.

And as you speed towards the finish,
Gleaming faces you'll see;
They cheered you on the whole time,
And they always believed.

I did great things before, and now that I'm free,
You'll see the good I can do
And how great I can be.