Treasure Island

Deep Karpe


Time To Be Free


The cold is seeping, the trees are weeping
Into this world of broken vines
Has come a wind of freedom...
The creak of knees...and shadows tripping
On the threshold of redemptiom...

The light is deepening, the stars are leaping
Green grass on marble floors
Has felt the wind of freedom...
The open wounds...and children sleeping
Have seen the dead vision...

Forever more the heart is beating
And all the open windows
Have heard the cry of freedom...
The hard fear...and the people waiting
Have come home to prison...

Broken down cars, and cell phones beeping
Open gates to empty rooms
Have been thrown down by freedom...
The taste of bile...and the music flowing
Have released reason...

The cold is seeping, the trees are weeping
Into this world of broken vines
Has come a wind of freedom...
The creak of knees...and shadows tripping
On the threshold of redemption...

Submitted: Saturday, December 29, 2012

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