Freedom (poetry)
To be too free is no better than being too trapped;
It's to choose between being suspended in the sky with wax wings knowing Sol and Gravity may decide to snatch it all away at any moment,
or
being conditioned to contentment with where you are, settling because the cage is your electroshock therapy;
'You know freedom is dangerous, you could fry yourself if you attempt it!'
But, in this world of dualities, one cannot be felt without the other, As how love cannot be understood without hate.
Still, how I wish to be free. I've only tasted a sample of that euphoria like
the first meal after a Muslim breaks their fast on a summery Ramadan evening, but how many more times must my stomach have to eat it self before I can get another taste?
In those brief moments, I couldn't describe how powerful, how liberating that freedom feels;
It's like accepting you're not the degenerate because she's a disloyal coward.
It's like filtering out a large crowd of people to concentrate if down to a concrete collective of the best friends a man could everhope to have...
It's like letting go of a toxic environment and being given a chance to breathe in the brisk air, the flowers, being caressed by the sun's radiance.
I long for that feeling where I can embrace the rain, fully, presently,
Not from the perspective of the wax-winged fool tangled in the thunderclouds, And certainly not from the perspective of the trapped & tortured captive, devoid of spirit, blind to everything outside
that electric cage.
How I wish to be free to feel, from the fear of pain,
to just live and love without sacrifice, unconditionally.
