It stirs and jumps,
against the walls of your heart it thumps,
It pulls and pushes,
and gasps for a breath of fresh air,
Unfurls its wings in the dungeon within,
till its warm wings cant spread no more.
It lights up the dark with the dreams of an artist,
beautiful yet surreal,
they seem so near,
till you rise to touch and see them disappear.
it casts no shadow, it shows no weakness,
like a fool in love, it marches on.
In a world that seems flooded with roses ,
it dances, no care for the blood that oozes,
from wounds on its wings that scrape the walls,
of a heart battered and hurt.
Blessed are those that live to see,
it set free and watch it soar,
while so many more punished ,
just for a thought and no more.
Some call it a dream, some an illusion,
and some like me just call it Freedom.
