If That’s Right

When there is no more freedom to be right

Only possible visuals for the eyes are disguised in madness

Staring at the unchanging destiny- time shrinks and crumble

Only there is some feeble murmur of hopelessness

Destiny pledges to the feelings that torment the being

Lands tightened by resistance and indiscriminate pillage

Age seems to wear off and become feeble before time

Thoughts are sharpened to terminate hopeful feelings

When freedom does not feel right but imposed and strict


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