Freedom, A Feather

Though I pray all too infrequently
vengeance is no more mine
than it belongs to Everyman

I seek fair countenance
wrought by the ideal of Lady Justice
that French dame whose marbled likeness
at the porthole of new horizons
welcomes all who seek
to change their lives
and I too come to change mine.

O, Providence
cast away these chains of indignation
the stagnant and blood-bound currents
of expectation and piety
for every man shapes his own fortune
and should sooner rule in his world
than to serve in someone else’s.

Freedom, a feather
upon the winds of change
fleeting reminders
of why we have come;
and in our becoming
abandoning visions dependent upon
being defined by the terms of other-men
reaching into the depths
to stand long and proud
of dreams-come-reality.

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