The Light After Dark


What is freedom? 
Is it the light I see in this dark place? 
Is it just a word, or do I give the meaning to it? 
Is it the feeling of floating freely in poisonous water? 
Or is it a heavenly word that means I can do anything? 
Could I really be who I want to be? 

I’m scared to spread my broken wings. 
Would it fall apart? 
I’m scared to walk towards the light. 
Would I fall apart? 
Too many questions are unanswered. 
Too many confusions jumble in my thoughts. 

I waited for freedom to come. 
Alas! It is here. 
My lips search for words to sing. 
My legs search for moves to dance. 
My fingers search for someone to hug. 
But instead, droplets of water escape my eyes. 

Could this be tears of happiness or tears of unbelief? 
My heart burst in contentment of this wonderful event. 
I want to share my emotions, but see no life. 
I’m a bird in my egg trying to hatch. 
But there is no family to witness my birth. 
I am lonely and lost. 

Leaves fall, and flowers bloom. 
Everything turns brown, and then turns green. 
My wings aren’t broken anymore. 
It healed, but scars are alive. 
I walked and fell towards the light; 
But I stand up and walk again. 

I learned the meaning of freedom. 
It wasn’t the light I saw in that dark room, but the life in the light. 
It isn’t a word, but a meaning of tomorrow. 
It isn’t the feeling of floating freely in poisonous water, but floating freely in clean air. 
It is a heavenly word that gives privilege. 
And freedom is a door of opportunity. 


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