Fumbling

To reason with your jailers, or to fight?
No answer yet conceived, though try I might.
For in their smiles there is warmth indeed,
Though by their hand I starve in urgent need.
Not bread nor water sates my greatest want;
Think only of a noble knight-errant,
Who may brave rainstorms, hunger, or disease,
But travels to wherever he does please.
A lonely wolf in barren wilderness
Will never let a human man suppress
Their tragic freedom, even facing death,
As they accept no curtail of their breath
By collar, rope, and kennels. Be not bound
To gentle masters, like a shameless hound!
(Whose empty sense of pride is solely found
In being praised while rolling on the ground.)
Look forward to a future paradise
Where all may be relieved from sin and vice
That birthed itself from tired, crying souls,
And venture forth toward their holy goals.
Stand tall, my brethren! Shake our heavy chains
While singing of our triumphs, of our pains.
In one eternal truth we put our trust:
Great kingdoms always rise, but fall they must.
So when come Judgment Day we all break free,
We may be proud of making history.
In time, when our successors are in cells,
They too may see the hero’s call compels.