i think of freedom,
once close to my heart.
I think of freedom
which once was a part-
of me and my existences.
Time has torn it apart
and i still dream
of the freedom.
Every hour i sense
the past,
live in a memory
and cry.
Every inch i move
with the scars
of what i was long ago.
Time has moved
and so have i.
capsuled in a sphere
of physical thoughts-
i dream and dwell
in the spirit of the past.
The shades of thoughts
still ricochet from deep
with in.The hues of
pride and position
propel me to go with it.
I think of the freedom,
it is what i want.
Every second of my life
is towards it,what i want.
I will be there for
all is mine and time is none
but a part.
