A Memory Of Freedom Poem by Seán O Muiríosa

Voices plagued my head today.
Posing numerable questions about me.
I battled and fought with these thoughts;
But one remained: When was I last free?
The night sky and its eyes could not ease
Much pain, but they managed to flick a switch
deep within the confines of my brain.

My two eyes glazed then twinkled,
Like vaults being prised open covertly,
By a long hunted combination.
Deep within those chasms
I ran through fields of dew at dusk.
An orange moon poured on down
Protecting from veils of a future time.

I paused a moment and looked straight up -
So… Unusual. I waited for it to fall.…
It didn’t, so I kept my dashing pace
Breaking the nightly breeze with ease
Towards the ash trees soothing call.

Now, closing the vault again on those trees,
Amber grass and an inexplicable moon
I lay on my bed, hollow, yet somehow
Heavy, I fear crumbling, sometime soon.
Freedom seems like a cartoon now
That only re-runs in my head
I know this for I write this poem
At a shadowy three am in bed.