I Know Not Freedom

I have no freedom! My songs die to the disorientation in man's fair wisdom, My song die to the imbecilic burgeoning of fair minds! In cloistered instants I nudged my dry lips to call God to scour the pain in my bones, I prayed midnight naked and thought I could write back to cut the Gordian knot, But still, freedom I know not! I purified my eyes with relic poems, I stretched my soul for the hand of a little boy I once been, But there is none of me where I once left myself! My word ousted by stilted and truth and tilted theories! I sing soullessly my withered song with fair hope, A song that beats back the pain buried beneath my opaque scars, hope dries up like the skin of tribal drums! I have no freedom!