Voice of Freedom

You can make me close my eyes

But the voices? Can you shut them.

This freedom you have inherited

Can you truly call it a virgin?

Like a prostitute in the market square

It wanders off preying on the young fantasies.

Dress me in the Red skin sheared from the young blood

For my lovers in the white, black and brown await in

an auction of many currencies, races and religions

My Love for the never aging craving for money

Is as large as your ignorance about me,

says Freedom!