When you trade freedom for security you end up with neither.
“Some fought and lived forever Others fought and died in flame But I slept through the battle and perished just the same.”
Arrogant faces of solemn smothering figures Expressions of dingy soldiers Tattered shivering homeless ashamed The soft laughter of the conqueror.
Through the Murkwood
In passing through the wayward wood, cloaked by the branches that form the cathedral of my way, I stopped and stooped to spy a coin illuminated by an errant beam of lunar essence that by might of effort or divine persuading survived its vast journey through expanse, clouded sky, and the arms of my wooded…
It’s not until the pain of your prison exceeds it’s rewards that you are truly able to escape.