For Freedom
A hundred pillaged days
unfolded like secrets
slowly reaching for the heart
of my penetralium
unbeknownst to the calluses
that rendered me numb
But the languid sanctum
enveloping these walls
cannot avert my rumination
because my inert hands
still sifts through everyone
and holds on the afterimage
of time and change
As the throbbing abates
inside the emergent denial
I learn to abide and
the babel of crooning voices
became the milieu
of my besieged soliloquy
The carousals sojourned
and the night fell moonward
the whim of the caprice
left the breath suspended
along with its quiescence
A trifle morose, at no edges,
for a surfeit unreasoning
I am liberty, I am adamant
my saturnalia awaits
for a bridge to a different side.
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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