Fictitious freedom

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Fictitious freedom


I feel as though I was made for

The cold nights,

The quiet fights,

The lingering hope of "I might."


Might create something,

Might achieve a dream,

Might break away from it all

And truly live—free.


A life they call lonely

I name my freedom.

It may not seem lovely,

But it’s my own kingdom.


All I need

Is the peace my soul has sought,

The warmth beneath the frost

That my room has always brought.


That’s all I ask,

Of life still yet to come:

Find me whole,

And let peace embrace me home.

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