Freedom Poem by Victor Wilson

Indeed the essence of the world is unpredictable
I ran from serfdom to discover the path of manumission
But this path is more of a real servitude
I'm like a caged bird whose heart has been eaten out

Life, I'm waiting for my demise
But it seems life is not done operating on me
Should I annihilate myself so it will be suicide and I'll be free?
Thinking is already like a knife piercing my chest
Penetrating into my heart

If my animatness is not ready to give me emancipation,
Then I'll go to the sky which is boundless
And draw down a little piece of liberation
And if the sky can't, I will go to the netherworld
To get my prerogative

If I can't get my freedom, I will wait
For my necrosis to give me my entitlement
But until then, I'll hold on to my rage
And let it fuel my fight for a different stage

In this darkness, I'll find my light
A spark that burns, a beacon in the night
I'll rise up, I'll claim my right
To live, to breathe, to be free from this plight