Though not more than mere flailing arms
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Striding against each other, as do confused brothers
One rushing past the other, in such haste
And so, beyond all hope for consensus,
Opposing each other they bring balance
To my maddened attempt at escape.
Oh, how I wish these arms were wings
Which heave in unison to carry me away.
Each pounding impact of foot to path
Reminds me of the untrodden ways
Of those that went before me,
When their dire straights compelled
In them the same desperate flight
From the evil of a numb mind,
For they would not acquiesce
To the theft of their own sentience.
Yet, I could really use a softer path.
I need more air in these lungs
To feed blood that brings life
To the many members of my body
Coming together, all its parts,
Finally finding a unified dance
In my getaway, this-a-way or that-a-way
As long as it isnít the current way.
I have to breathe or Iím going to die.
My second wind is with me now
Filling my sail with the sudden breeze
Of a new hope, that if I break free
Of these tyrannical chains of control
I will yet have my reward before I pass
For I run not in vain and, though by fear,
Not without a just goal and sure target.
Just need to get there and not fall on the way.
My pursuers would deny my right to flight
And they, bereft of all claim to their selves
For who would dare command the will of another
If he had one of his own to command.
- June 2006