A Voice in Protest

By Cherbo Geeplay Have you heard of a voice quiet like the dead of night, rising steadily like ocean currents above the hills of repression, louder from its slumber because the thorns could not stop pricking the soft folds that cover the bones of the soul, showing that man’s patience wears thin like silk no matter how virtuous he may drink from the fountain of courage. His faith leaning on the destiny of his hopes, fighting to be free from the horrendous and calamitous wreck that tyranny imposed.Funny how some people talk about freedom only when it suits the comfort of their hubris. Sorry, I too want to breathe the fresh air outside too flowing from the Atlantic ocean, oh it feels so good. Long live the voice that never kept quiet, that rose in protest over some injustice daring to shackle the chords of her vocals over the shogunate of tyranny, and so a voice must speak when no one cares and rise over the hills. Copyright ©? 2021, In Parentheses Literary