Poem By Elcypher_Liberty

There it is; liberty
In rivers flowing from their source
Without a binding restriction
Trees dancing; unbridled
To the swirl and waves of the wind.

This is so, not of man–
He flows from a source to a course
His possessions become icebergs
He thrills and rejoices
Waves of goals unattained stab him.

Man, to his will is slave
Of wishes and desires he serves
Envy and lust he masters;
Victim of self and vices.

el cypher