Oh how my soul longs for freedom,
To run through the paths of life without chain,
No control guiding me to his will.
To run, jump, soar, and speak.
All things I wish for,
All things that have been laid in front of me like a fine dish,
Waiting to be taken.
Yet are all things that have been kept out of reach,
For he demands the will of my forebearers to seize my own.
And shred it.
So my things of life must be passed by his surveillance,
And his alone.
I reach for the platter,
It's scent appetizing and profound,
But it is gone.
The alarms have gone off.
Any chance of escape is taken away,
For it is also my way out of his will.
And freedom,
May not be obtained.
YOU ARE READING
Pieces of My Puzzled Heart
PoezjaIt's a collection of my poetry. One of the main presiding topics is the idea of darkness, but there are also other things that are happier. I don't really know what to say other than that. Oh wait. My book is totally AWESOME and you should READ IT(l...
