Of Freedom

It is for every man to roam

for every life to be free

for every living thing to dream.

If it is love that binds

break that bond

if it is hate that curbs

kill that fast

so that every man is sky-like

every where and no where all the same

to weep and laugh

as seasons come and go

and still stay aloof

stay away even when you belong

because who is whose forever, ever?

Time’s changing patterns

replace the players with the played

rearrange settings imaginary and real

mix fantasy, fun and fear

create magic potions of experiences

as easily as night sky mixes into morning azure

as agents of destruction create

new rules, new players, new played

so it goes on

play then love

play as long as the song lasts.

 

 

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