Song of the Betel Chewer

Distant songs; meanderings,
of birds and other beasts
free from grilled windows,
green capsules,
they sing plenty sweet songs,
for me...
While I gaze, into nothingness,
which draws out of me, the opium I call life.

Bright red lips, trickles of stale betel,
dripping, leaving it's mark
on clinical walls, that imprison me.

I pray they go with me.

Everyone else, wanders around
in empty hallways,
their shadow, their only friend,
they take their turn at living,
one stride of pain at a time.

Glazed eyes I see, glistening with tears albeit dry,
wasted burrows on her bosom and on his sucked in chest,
tethered, their wings clipped,
I wither along with them
and I near the journey of Sansara,
for release I crave, from my desolate world,
a last breath I need,
to bid adieu, to the empty hallway, my one and only friend.

Freedom to me...

A bird nestled, on top a Mahogani Tree,

it's wings tender like moonlit February,

they caress me, the soft feathers they speak,

that's freedom to me...

Hearts wild, heads light

the moon light blue and soothing.

Waves of twilight rustle in my soul,

that's freedom to me...

Like the bird and the sea

the flowers sweet,

a gentle tide brushes against my callused feet,

that's freedom to me...

Freedom, Freedom, Freedom

Men yell, kill, maim and taunt, all for freedom.

but, a smile with a hint of love,

that's freedom to me...