Cymbals of Freedom

Raindrops from clouds of grey
Pouring rain on arid fields
Gushes of cold wind
Against the barren land
Landscapes of my mind

Falling golden circles
On deep murky water
Of stagnant pool deep in dark forests
Falling dead leaves on top
Scenes replayed as the paper is signed

Screaming banshees and shrieking harpies
Discordant sounds of wailing mourners
Slaps of flagellating whips on backs
Thumps of fists on chests
Regrets that plagued my heart

Walking out single once more
Ring-less  finger ever so light
What price freedom
From loveless union
Just sad scenes played and re-played

Empty home, ringing with silence
Walls sighing with memories
Sing the house with loneliness
No strewn boxers, no empty beer cans
Just a resounding stillness, my freedom.