Sunday, 29 September 2013

Bolt Away

What is really to be free?
To be boundless?
To fly away,
Like Harry on Firebolt,
With the free air, 
And endless sun,
With the inexpensive walks,
And the solitude,
With chanced meetings, 
And forgotten memories,
What is it that you give away from yourself,
To be free?
The hidden, uncaged remains,
Of your soul?
What is that place in your heart you have,
That nobody else does?
Everyone always find an excuse,
To excuse their life somehow,
Don't let slip pass that second,
When it'll be all you need,
To squander your remaining life,
The dissipation of selves,
Sometimes is all required,
To be free.

There's a lot of collateral damage your freedom costs.


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