Finally Freedom

I turn

onto vast plain

yellow grass

occasional trees

against the sky

I leave everything

 

In a white boubou

I am shoe less

I walk for the horizon

for the dawn of man

 

They have burned them

all my things

my desires

my greed

my needs

I sacrificed them

for banishment

 

The heavy gates swing shut

bound with iron and age

and that’s the joke

the gates still moan

as I turn and walk:

 

This is finally

Freedom

September 1996

Copyright © 2005 by Wolfstuff

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