I can never be free.
Even the full moon is destined to say good morning
and the gentle stars plucked from their refuge in the twilight.
Even the graceful clouds are swept from the valleys
and the songbirds shackled to the endless heavens.
Even the mysterious mandarinfish are glued to the salty seaside
and the corals forced to surrender their colors.
Even the redwood's leaves are hauled from the colorless breeze
and the rose's petals dragged to the crumbling earth.
Even the oak's branches are starved from dancing in the wind
and the willow's roots locked into history.
Even my weary soles are planted to the grandest lavender mountains
and my chapped lips baffled in awe
and my lungs filled with frail butterflies
and my frayed palms fastened to my tattered heart
and my rusty eyes captivated by the glowing sunset.
Though, my frivolous thoughts still wander
and are stranded in the dark.
Even if I tried,
I can never be free.