The silence of Liberty worries me…
as how any daunting silence do…
No songs of birds but petty laughter heard..
shut behind the Willow door…
the queerness of Liberty intrigues me…
as in silence I watch Aries cry…
but the air contains a deadly scent…
i wonder, if there is anything needing mend…
the silent tears of Liberty haunts me…
the image of tears sliding down Her cheeks…
i can’t help but think of me the fee…
that renders such pain to Her who seeks…
the joy of Liberty lifted me…
I’ve not been happier than I could remember…
but if my joy is built upon the Her grieve…
i would have stayed put and spare Her rather…
the warmth of Liberty reminds me…
that friends in need are friends indeed…
yet in times where the diluted barrier fails to act…
this warmth becomes the reason to not look back…
This ground of Liberty has brought me much…
more than i could imagine, wish and thought…
but it’s built upon the grounds of pain…
i could not bid myself to visit it again…
i am sorry for not making it easy for Liberty…
as Aries wanders its skies in tears…
i can’t promise more but to be a friendly guide..
should Her weary tears drown out Her sight…
Until i return to the grounds of Liberty…
May Aries braces Herself,
and be happy…
-Bornion Crusader-