Freedom

in poetry •  7 years ago 

TRIGGER WARNING

My kind of freedom has a silvery glint to it in a certain light.
My kind of freedom comes with razor sharp edges,
Svelte and proper when held in hand.
Glides smoothly, moves easily, like a knife slicing through butter.
Cuts swiftly, creating crimson lines as it goes.
I throw freedom to the side, and wait as the color of a broken heart seeps out.
The color of a heated argument,
Angst and hopelessness.
The color of your final breath before being taken into the light.
The color surrounds me, along with darkness, pushing me further towards the sky.
I see light.
I feel freedom.

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For some, it is the simple act of living that is heroic. I appreciate this piece for the insight it lends to the reader. Thanks for sharing.

अपकी वोट हमारे लिए महत्यपूर्ण है। जिसके लिए हम आपको धन्यवाद करते है। और वोट करते रहे।
Your vote is important to us. For which we thank you. And keep voting @piyushkansal