A poem with hope for freedom and joy |
Freedoms last hope. I come to this land, young and free, With the joy of new life, all I can see, I hope that it stays, this hopeful way, I pray that my heart, may open and play. With the wind so strong, and happy to run, My soul cries out, for the golden sun, Over the hills, so green and new, My limbs rejoice, In the fresh blue dew. I reach the forest, of ancient oaks, They sing to me, with their tender croaks, My eyes are dazzled, In their almighty presence, With love and joy, they grant me their essence. I feel so free, and true to life, One that is, and has no strife, I am the soul, and spirit too, Of life's great question, what are we to do. For the time has come, when I answer all, Were here for a reason, and never to fall, The truth is, that freedom shall reign, That great feeling, which keeps us sane. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |