Freedom

Freedom

How I wish it were true, 

this thing they call freedom.

An illusion that governs us,

a dream wrapped in chains.

I move through the cycle,

enslaved to routine,

yet I know 

there is more to life

than this quiet obedience.

They say we need rules,

we need order,

for the average man

is drowning in indulgence.

But I 

I do not need a ruler

to tell me how to live.

Freedom is not in permission.

It is in choice.

It is in truth.

To live by one’s own hand,

guided not by command

but by conscience

that is freedom.

That is order.