I struggle so much to set everyone free!: A poem 

These golden strands silently occupy my mind 

like cotton balls of golden fleece, I find 

And myriad thoughts bloom into arias, divine 

A little lamp illuminating like the sharpest shining light 

Even in a struggle, who can say whose is blight, 

when the warrior has never failed to be right 

Vision is clairvoyance, not mere eyesight 

Evil may have power but never have might 

I can call on all my Godliness subordinated and made sublime 

that I can find rhyme, even when it is not yet my time 

And I can say the sweetest tasting fruit may just be the lime 

For it can be procured for a mere lowly dime 

But I know, too well, what is precious only to me 

All the leaves hanging like hearts on my ancestral tree 

I swear my love was never sold for all the money 

Because, I may have been imprisoned, but I suffer so much to set you all free!