My arms writhe in pain, my eyes moisten in vain,
The nauseating claustrophobia, drives me insane.
I grope, i fumble, i stammer, i clasp, and stumble,
The waning beacon attenuates as i am no more nimble.
My heart pines to be coupled with freedom,
Liberation - thy name i hear seldom.
The landscapes beckon with their open arms to embrace,
But the silhouettes and shadows pursue me in their chase.
My feet are bound by the clutches of coercion,
But hope still floats that liberty is not just an illusion.
The night is seduced by the aphrodisiac of fear,
But dawn is on the anvil, i know from the glint in my tear.
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