How long shall we dwell
In the illusion of freedom?
We are but stoics
Burying pains in feigned smiles.
I have known a word,
A word so remote and unrealistic,
The right to do what I please,
To live without bounds.
I am free, and you are free,
Yes, free to think beyond bounds,
But slaves in reality,
Fettered in the chains of societal norms.
Freely we wander far and wide in thoughts
Thinking of purity, filth and fantasy,
Only to wander back at the call of reality
For outside these, we are bound!
We are slaves to our egos,
That dare to pop wild and wide
But chained in the bounds of our norms
For even the most freed freeman has bounds.
We are slaves to wealth and power
That we seek to have all
Labouring perpetually to get it all
Yet none can gather all…
With the clubs of unbridled greed
Lashing our backs
Commanding our thoughts, steps and deeds
We toil, gathering loots and spoils….
O man, you are self-enslaved,
The slavery that none can salvage,
For all are bound and limited
Dancing to the drums of destructive instincts.
Except our thoughts, fantasy and imagination,
No freedom is absolutely free
For we labour only to submit the spoils
At the feet of death…..
And if man was indeed free,
Man could undo God!
Inked By: Purity Onyam