Surrealism of Liberty
Open your eyes
Connect to your fellow man, me Dili
A quenched soul, parched of steadfast hope
Filth of the man that used to walk the soil
With a bounce in his steps, the gait of a free eland
Yet, the winds flurried my essence
The sun evaporated my soul
A lion's roar transformed to a squeal of a yard mouse
A day sleeper, a bat stripped bare of echo-location
Bouncing from tree to tree, erect corpses
Deaf to the echoes of my screeching lungs
Gasping for air, as the heart labors in to the dire depths
Of an agonizing slumber, awaiting a winter's hibernation
For the rupture of vessels, as pirouetting blades of apathy
Carve open the crumbling heart in its final stance
As my pillows of freedom, my sheets of privacy
Were stripped off the cradle of my life
As I, an innocent baby feeding on the buxom bosoms of mother earth
Await a call from the convivial heavens, to levitate
To embrace a kingdom where freedom flows in tidal magnitudes
To walk again, in no man's shadow, in no satellite's path of site
To embrace the surrealism of a timeless liberty
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
