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The slide of silver Freedom,
Curving around the flesh
Of my sweaty neck...
I can almost feel it,
Cutting...
Layer after layer.
Hug of the irritable rope,
Quick stop, with a sudden drop.
The fear of what tomorrow brings,
Breaks even the strongest of men,
Even the funniest of men,
And yes, even the most popular of men.
They hope they find freedom in their choice.
I don't actually know the sting,
But I know the pain.
The pain of having joy stripped from you.
I've seen myself die before
God and Lucifer,
Friends and enemies.
Taking bets,
I've won
...
This poem was written like most of my stuff so far, when I was in a very bad place. It originally ended with I've won... For now. I believe I'm  finally starting to get over my depression that I've had for years now, so as an optimistic change, I took out For now.

I have won.
You have my word...
But in a world contorted
By lies leaked from
serpents mouths...
What does that really entail?
''Beware of your leaders,
Bearing their false gifts.''
But what have they given us?
Freedom?
Hope?
Truth?
We wish for these but the day
Where we receive them, is not today.
All we can truly hope for,
Is that our kin,
of this beautiful world,
Find a way to contain the disease,
For we are already infected...

— The End —