Dark Freedom
For those tortured souls
An autumn day,
In a quiet town,
The sky is grey,
The leaves are brown
Trees lie dead,
And so we’ll see,
Heads full of lead,
And souls empty
Two companions,
Sit in a shed,
With rusty tools,
Not a word is said
Driven together,
Mutual unwants,
An emotional tether,
That neither one wants
Still, in contemplation,
Memories flow,
Quiet, with resignation,
Persistent sorrow
No tear drops fall,
Such times have passed,
Each hold a gun,
Each make it last
Eye contact,
Bottomless wells,
Expressions lack,
Feeling swells
Chains unshackled,
Uncaged and free,
Death–
Liberation only
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