Free Speechless

As I began to sit here and ponder about the past I realized I have been set free. A freedom that has taken a toll on my emotional being which from time to time has kept me mentally hospitalized but I can recall.  I no longer need to fill in the space of molding to share in congruency but rather to be irregular in independency.  Breathing without the chords attach to my fragile being but pushing through airways of respondency.  I can shout without a sound being driven through my voice box.  I have ripped through my outer covering metamorphasizing into the poetic beaken of truth.  As I look upon the dry stains of blood upon my skin I think back to the barb wire  I had to endure to see the other side of utopia.  After the sandstorm I see the tiny grains of loss endeavors flourishing to compound the grande.  The grande landscape for the podeum of deliverence.  As I look amongst the many I see an unmerited unity of hope.  A hope sure to defy and define the inner assurance of existing.