Mouth full of hay , Soul ready to ponder
He sits in the stable , has some moments to squander.
Hair brown as berry , his mind has become a transponder.
As he is to his master , nothing more than a responder.
As he blinks restlessly, knowing he cant do anything but concur.
To this world he is a slave , to his parents no less than alexandre.
He is trapped being free , in a dungeon of desires.
He is free being trapped , in a heaven promised by friars.
His thoughts dictated by history , his actions dictated by liars.
Sits there and wonders , yes , its his own freedom that he inquires
Free to believe that i am trapped?
Free to think that i ain’t mapped?
Free but still waiting for an apt?
Free but still enslaved and not ready to adapt?
The sky now becomes a cage
The floor becomes a stage
The universe screams , as it recognizes a sage
The sun dies , as his soul is ready to disengage
A voice proclaims :
“His knowledge was redundant,
His soul was discontent,
All of this had forced him to dement,
We have to end this , he can not be allowed to further ascent,
And as i raise this axe my heart is forced to lament.”
The axe swings, his head falls on the burning ground.
And a universe of thoughts , with his head have drowned.
The drops of blood stained like a medallion ,
And he is remembered as the great stallion.