The streak of life, the cosmic ray, and the blowing wind ramble, scramble, and dust up the sky.
The game of light, sound, and swirling wind to captulate the whim is to fulfill the living, and let not the desire sly.
The mysteries of life are hidden volcanic lifting, surging, moving, and cooling desire of freedom to break free to fly.
Freedom is a property now, bound, and imprisoned by the Statehood of power and control; Freedom is kept in vault, and converted into privilege currency to be bestowed, bargained, and traded for a living mirage under the sky.
The paradoxical irony surrounds freedom which is not free anymore.
Freedom is a slogan to entice the populous; Populous oblige, and sacrifice for those who control their freedom all the more.
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