Free
Free
Myriad voices yearn to be heard,
A fine symphony of rhyme and word.
The mirrors,
The sky,
The shadows,
That fly,
Indeed a wonder in the land that pretends not to lie.
Oh, but how she wished she could,
Be the courageous one underneath the hood,
Turns out the voices did not die,
And yet she waited for the epiphany to arrive.
Lurking in the valleys of despair,
I saw her struggling for air,
She made no sound as bit by bit,
She heard the cacophony through the shrouded mist.
A distant voice rung through the dark,
As a blinding light ignited the lost will into a spark.
She walked through the irksome island,
And into the spurts of lava beneath the fine grains of sand.
I met her after the last fall,
She knocked through the door of my soul.
And this time
I answered the call.
I met her halfway
She begged to stay.
So she stayed.
She wrapped herself around my being,
And I was whole again
As the little girl, I had left behind
Smiled in glee
And stood toe-to-toe with me.
And now?
She plays her ensemble through the storm,
She struggles to see the beauty in the crooked form.
Look what they did,
The girl they left behind,
Is finally in a war to be free.
And I would never tell her again,
That she wasn't enough to be me.