How did we get here?
Do the birds fly here?
Do the winds carry the words of freedom?
Is revolution carried in the puff of smoke exhaled?
Are we prisoners without chains or free men while chained?
Is philosophy discussed here via poetry and prose?
Do women kiss with abandon?
Is it untouched from the myths of traditions, orthodoxy; garbed under the subterfuge of culture?
Do drinks overflow in glasses or are they injected in veins?
Are here a few that you will label as insane?
For the insane make history; the future is of the crazy.
The killers will be killed under the mob of democracy.
The king wears no clothes; and the chair he sits on will be thrown to famished dogs with him
And history will make songs of it that future generations will sing.
With abandonment, without restraints;
freedom in the air; and winds of change.
