I long to take a well-earned break, a chance to escape my wretched fate

To know in life there is more, than these tediously bland old chore, minding yet another rich man's store, while I am cast aside for naught but vore.

I long to see the forests of old, to explore the lives that came before, and meet the folk of a simpler age.

Those too humble for history's page, what I seek is an adventure of yore, a solitary one which my own story might unfold.

I would know the majesty of beach and tree, that I might quest out and reach the sea, for I know Gaia would greet with me, once I've fled these cities of greed.

My quarrel is not with life but with my fellow man, it is they who tax upon all I am, few and fewer those who understand, that there are limits one can stand.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

This is my labor so take your fist from my pan, because I've been to where thieves lose their hand.

Brutal as it is, it works. So don't touch my things with that arrogant smirk, the sight alone will drive me berserk.

Nature is so wondrous and full, why waste the time to be pointlessly cruel? So self assured in the rightness of their role, yet so easy to abscond from with a leisurely stroll.

The forest does not judge, stone does not take. It costs nothing to simply swim in a lake. These cities are a prison, urbanization a mistake. Why is my Great White North so damned Concrete-Grey? Why is every opportunity locked behind closed gate?

I can't lay down my roots through the asphalt grade, can't build a life in misery and hate,

So I'm going on an adventure, I'd best bring my blade.