Atop this precipice, I sit and watch as the beasts wander the fields, from left to right, all in their places except for one. He grazes alone, and though his keeper turns a blind eye, he stays within his confines. 

These dreams are temporary, but the memories are worth their weight in gold. 
And, when the lines have all faded from the sand, I hope their borders hold me in. 

I’ve retraced lines on the maps that outline the fictitious fates that I've created to make a way for myself, above the walls, and out from under the loving hands that held me close; that kept me in. 

I've mapped the constellations for years, but they haven't proven [bad word] just yet. 
I've stood on the shoulders of giants, but never saw past my own shadow. No! 
Why have I strayed, beyond your reach?