A CRY FOR FREEDOM © 2008

My tears have ceased to be isolated drops,

Once solitary, lost, and helpless,

Now, from a frayed thread, they flow long, unhurried,

To the boundless river that embraces and crosses pain.

Overflowing through verdant meadows, the salt departs,

Bitterness, a faithful companion, that has done us harm,

Running along ancient paths, carrying the past,

In deep silence, of a predetermined fate.

And I, the liquid body, in harsh winters,

Become ice, in the shape of my hells,

But in the pause, when the season allows,

My soul, in tranquility, omits the burden of pain.

I then requalify myself for new upheavals,

Facing them with the strength of hidden dreams,

For in each tear, in each suffering fall,

I renew the meaning of my continuous life.

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