In the undulations of thought, a whisper of freedom is born
In the undulations of thought, a whisper of freedom is born,
Like a silver river carving its path through cliffs of prejudice,
Whispering truths that ache, yet heal in their profound silence.
Words, those rebellious birds with wings of fire and talons of diamond,
Soar from the cage of the mind, defying the bars of societal convention,
And fly towards forbidden horizons, bearing in their feathers sparks of raw truth.
Oh, how they dance across the sky of consciousness, these shooting stars of free thought,
Leaving behind luminous trails of courage and rebellion against the mute conformity!
Liberty, that capricious goddess with jade eyes and storm-spun hair,
Whispers to me secrets hidden in the folds of her gown woven from dreams and aspirations,
Of the sacred right to speak the unspoken, to drip bittersweet venom into deaf ears.
In the deep night of my soul, I hear the echo of unuttered words,
Like a choir of phantoms mourning their enforced silence, the regret of non-expression,
And I feel each stifled syllable transform into an invisible chain holding me captive.
But lo! From the ashes of silence rises a phoenix of unfettered expression,
With wings forged from fiery letters and eyes that see beyond the veil of comfortable falsehood,
Ready to cry out inconvenient truths in the face of a world that prefers the sweet slumber of ignorance.
For what is freedom, if not the audacity to shatter the mirror of convenient illusions,
To shake the foundations of false certainties with the hammer of honest words,
Even as they fall like acid drops on the delicate skin of complacency?
In the river of my consciousness, each thought is a raindrop rebel,
Refusing to fall only where it is expected, but choosing to water the barren soil of preconceptions,
Germinating the inconvenient seeds of truth in the manicured garden of appearances.
Thus, I let the words flow, an unyielding torrent of raw honesty,
For in them lies the power to sculpt reality, to mold destinies and to jolt slumbering consciences awake,
Even as they crash like furious waves against the cliffs of comfort, eroding them slowly but surely.
For liberty, in its pure and unadulterated essence,
Is not merely the right to speak what others wish to hear,
But the courage to utter the uncomfortable truths, to be the voice that awakens and unsettles,
Even if it means being the solitary cry in the wilderness of conformity.
Copyright © Dan Enache | Year Posted 2024
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