From the day we are born until the day we die we have promises to keep and miles to go before we sleep, miles to go before we sleep. Those woods may be lovely, dark and deep, but we have no spare time to live and explore them. We are set on a rigid path bound by our predestined obligations to the very life, liberty and happiness that we are being denied. We will go in circles around the edge of the forest, always looking in but never daring to step in, for fear of change. But that change is comfort, that change is peace. That change is exactly what we travel in circles looking for, dragging the chains shackled to us on the days of our births. These are the chains of freedom we wear, cuffed to our ankles and wrists, while the woods calmly beckon to us just out of reach. Always out of reach.