The stain marked blots of swirled ink
Like a rabid rorschach dalmatian
Whose spots ripple radiuses that splice
And blend jagged lines into a roving equation of pi
Designed to describe the inner most 'I"
That is lost to a world paved in concrete palaces
Where stasis has become the new normal
Amongst the maelstrom of competing voices
Voicing their interpretation as unrequited
Expressions that stresses the individual syllables
Of FREE-DOM against the forces that otherwise
Leave the slate blank so that all that remains
Are empty spaces of what could have been
If ink never stained the page