The independence of being yourself
Ignited I stand, divided I to the ground fell.
On the clasp of divinity, I heard the song whose origin is sold.
Becalled to the tune, tamed by the beating drum,
The equity of the stellar love calls for its forlorn sum.

I danced in the rain and bellowed to the beckoning symphony of its muse
I squandered my way across the glaring atrocities of timeliness that follow the cues.
Denouncing my solidarity that bows, I spoke in tandem of the starlit tales,
The ones silencing their onset and shouting in gallant echoes of their departure, so lonely and frail.

The enamoured lies that linger in the brevity of pain are true,
I embrace the beauty of darkness, juxtaposing radiance under its sinew.
We smile in a sea full of lies, to live and let live, to breathe and die in the same rhythmic flair.
How gregariously we laugh in the monotonous mundanity of slavery,
Yet only the ones with water above their neck choose to dare

I want to live a thousand lives and die a thousand deaths just to be alive in this form.
To live on the clasp of divinity, to hear the song of sorrow and challenge the norm.
Of the cliffs of moors under the becalming tune, I choose to be untamed by the beating drum.
Galloping through the ride of uncertainty, embracing the gift of me for the days to come.

We live, we laugh, we dance, in the faintest hopes, we let our hearts cry,
In the beauty of love and light, may our passions never bid our smiles goodbye.

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