Freedom

Surrendering to dramatized images of failure

Flashing in and out of consciousness

Absurd fears gnaw through my armor of bravado

Quietly slipping inward, my self-inflicted exile

Narration: A weary tool that maims

A radiant light has dimmed, history echoes

 

But I refuse to falter.

 

Or succumb.

 

To the demons that shackled me for so long.

 

I am free.

 

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3 thoughts on “Freedom

  1. Pingback: D-Day to 9/11 and How Freedom Slipped Through Our Fingertips | Mister Misogyny

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