Poetry: A Prequel

Thunderous applause may be how liberty dies

But how about when freedom gently survives

Does anyone ever really notice when a cup of cocoa

Means that there is no longer a rope trying and tying me so

That I’ve slipped the knot and found the key

And that no man will ever again bear down onto me

With such force of mind will or body and in due time of course

The rope burns and tiny scratches left will heal

It’s not a dramatic or particularly interesting moment

When you can pick a flower or greet the Senate

But it’s a gradual and little kind thing that grows

Flowers peeking up from old wounds and I shan’t miss it, you know

My cage gilded as it was with all the rust of my blood

Holds no good memories for me although in a flood

Of emotion the torture does sometimes still taste sweet

My path leads me away from an Emperor and his defeat

Am I dallying too long on on my kin breaking my heart?

Perhaps but hopefully this was a prequel and just the start

Of my heroine’s journey and may gravity play her part

In bringing me back from a galaxy far, far away

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