My wrists and ankles are still sore
From the shackles that ate my flesh,
But I’m not tortured anymore,
I’m not caged in wire and mesh.

I’ve run so far to chase this dream,
And should I die wearily here,
Emancipated like this stream,
The last moments would be so dear,

Healing all tragedies since birth,
All bludgeonings and knavery.
A drop of water free’s worth
All the dippers full in slav’ry.