These times seem to carry a waft of a tune,
The spring in my steps seem to bounce,
A
ll on their own.
Freedom surrounds me, a blanket of dreams
The mice of rebellion chew the ropes,
At last, a glimmer of hope.
Freedom dictates my path,
My limbs too happy to serve
Swaying to the beats of the never-ending night,
A drink too many, the follies of a carefree mind.
Giddy sense of the broken shackles,
Swift haze of the impending manacles
Ignorant shrug, there’s joy to be found,
Oh, free will, the fatal psychedelic of the ever-trapped one.
Freedom, the honeyed-poison,
Drop by drop, you cannot quench my thirst
Freedom, my discontented master,
Pull on those strings,
I’ll dance a new dance.
YOU ARE READING
A budding writer's collection
PoetryJust a bunch of poems written as and when I feel to write them
