"Freedom Lies in Choice"

Lost
in an impossible cure
unable to obey urges
of the sadistic and corrupt
a powerful illusion
that hangs in cold-steel skeletons
the path to voluptuousness
with desperate bodies
and stained sheets
vain tongues speak
drawing tears from unwilling eyes
self-made bridges of destruction
as if love matters not
and honor dies

Not to be hypnotized by the masses
Dictator of my own world
where freedom lies in choice
With the last moon
seen through distant windows
held with gentle hands
wonderful to linger
thoughts touching wings
at peace with winter
and death
Knowing I never laid bare-
in their world