![First Morning Of Freedom](https://thefridaytimes.com/digital_images/large/2023-08-19/first-morning-of-freedom-1692391474-2557.jpg)
So is this the freedom we dreamt for
The dawn stained with the darkness
Mornings with blood
Is this the morning
For which the friends went a far
In a hope that they will finally
Reached the promised skies
The final destination of stars
In the desert of the skies
Of the promised land
There must be somewhere
The coast to the waves of the
Dull night
And there will somewhere
Anchor raft of the grief of heart
When the friends began their journey
Through the mysterious highways
Of youthful blood
Many hands where there to cuff them
From the Impatient bedrooms of the
Land of beauty
The open arms were calling
And the bodies were crying
But so endearing was our
Longing to appearance of the dawn
So near was the fabric
Of the beauties of light
So delicate were the desires
And so repressed was the tiresome
Learned that there has been a
Separation between dark and light
Learned that reunion of journey
and the destination
And the rules of people of pain
Have changed
As pleasure of meeting is allowed
And the pains of separation are forbidden
Fire of the liver, desire of the eye
And burning of the heart
Now can’t affect the panacea to
The pain of partition
Where did the morning breeze come
And where it went?
Yet, the lamp on the passage way
Has no idea
Yet, there is no decline in the
Fall of the night
Yet, not the moments of salvation
Of heart and sight have arrived
March, March on
Because the destination we dreamt
Is yet not in sight