Freedom
Heavens' gates open wide
as a new soul approaches slowly.
Crisp air frightens the new arrival,
yet there is freedom.
Freedom in knowing the choice was his.
The way to come in exceeded his abilities, but leaving,
Leaving was his choice,
Leaving was the only gift,
the only freedom known to be captured within a soul for eternity.
If his choice of doing so was taken away, he would be empty.
He would then become the slave he swore not to be.
Stepping towards the gates delicately opening with a screech,
Glowing metal scraping against clouds,
And yet he was protected.
His freedom evident as his chest rose and fell.
Death is inevitable,
though choosing to stay or leave,
is the only birth right each soul encompasses within themselves.
If such a right is taken away,
what would be left but a hollow shell of nothing.