A CRY FOR FREEDOM © 2008

I know that what I write is out of time,

A distant echo, an uncertain breath,

The beat of waiting that never hit,

With the ideal moment, the correct chord.

The words that flow are out of tune,

Like loose notes in an uneven rhythm,

While the world follows the marked beats,

I seek a melody beyond the norm.

Each verse I create is an attempt,

To find the perfect, essential moment,

But time escapes me, it’s elusive,

And my song remains timeless.

And so, I continue, writing in contradiction,

Searching for harmony in emotional chaos,

For I know that, even out of season,

What I write can still be vital.

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