to be free;
what then,
would then my limbs give way to?
a dance, song, or some other rhythm?

what really,
are the possibilities
afforded to me?

would i saunter,

or would i run,
no longer subjugated?

would the world finally resolve,
or would the sum of it all be inconclusive?

we’ve all been reduced,
we’ve all known pain –
some more than others,
but what could we really be,
if on even plain?

would we be
birds of the air,
or would continue to toil,

the labor is rigorous,
but is what we reap,
the thing?