Dissident

Clouded is the truth from lies.
As is the pride from despise.

In-fect of a state of mind.
Fearful and yet undefined.

How it ends, how it resolves.
I’d rather not be involved.

In the madness, in deceit.
In the acceptance of defeat.

This fat and happy childhood,
Where kindness is misunderstood.

Dependency is underlying.
Resistance softened and denying.

It seems that freedom was not free.
Its promise was no guarantee.

It was potential, not yet being.
It called for violence and disagreeing.

It was an effort it was a hill.
It had yet to be distilled.

The pursuit of it had just begun.
It’s a pursuit that most now shun.

It was surrendered, it was given.
Its simple acts are now forbidden.

A madness I cannot engage.
Though this truth has me enraged.

What do we stand for now?
What dominance will we allow?

To exile with heavy heart.
My home tears itself apart.

Wandering upon a void.
Pieces of myself destroyed.

Liberation, where hope remains.
This the bread that sustains.

The spark upon the mounting tinder.
For flames to raze prolific hinder.

Until then I roam and wait.
Willfully blind to this state.

The view, it’s too much to bear.
From here in hope, here in prayer.

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