Freedom (My 23_March Post)

Burn me,
Burn everything I own,
Burn away my writings,
every paper,
Inked or blank,
I know it will burn bright.
Burn my name,
Hang me high,
let everyone forget,
but hear my crime,
I am guilty,
one of you, trained,
to obey, to live,
to celebrate every gift,
I still talk freedom,
I am your criminal.

I say it aloud,
it won’t work,
preach rigorously,
slavery is weak,
it dies with the slave,
print more books,
use my paper,
I don’t need it,
freedom is so fundamental,
so natural, ever existent,
it is the truth,
I needn’t teach it.

Make good songs,
catchy phrases,
you have an edge,
truth seldom rhymes.
Beware!!!
More freaks will come,
be singing songs of freedom,
till their deathbeds,
In their hearts,
it will rhyme.

When I joined the fight,
I knew my fate,
certain death,
and I will die,
fall on you,
merely a drop,
On your throne,
made of stone,
will do no harm,
evaporate,
years later,
another drop will hit,
do not harm,
others will come,
hit you at the same place,
with time you will see,
A Hole,
where I landed first,
then it will rain,
flooding your cities,
breaking your illusion,
a thunder strike,
will remind you of me,
of every insignificant drop,
of every crushed freak,
and break you apart.

Image Credits

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