What will I do if Freedom comes
in guise of satisfaction lost
to cruelly pluck all that I love
from corners of my wounded heart?
And then embrace me for the first,
break Illusion's cloudy wings.
Encourage growth of feathers flight
and let me loose on stranger winds.
What will I do if I am lost,
In cold and darker swirling mist
and flying on a howling storm -
across the night, unsafe, alone...
I'm tossed clear of all that I knew
to give rebirth to other souls -
Unrecognized by those who saw
Expressions of what once was me?
What will I do if I am caught?
Impaled upon a sword of ice.
Imprisoned by a gaze of man
who melts the stars into the light
And even then to hear the song
that nations sang before they died.
To give my heart to one who cares
not Anything for who I am.
Copyright © Tanya Bunge