Freedom.

A word with so many meanings,
It conveys so many feelings,
With addition to so many dealings,
Along with some killings,
The gruesome story of freedom.

Sure it may seem wise,
To fight for the removal of your demise,
Or the petition of franchise,
But what is it's real meaning?

It may seem that we have become free,
With no restricting orders and dynasty,
But the laws that we're set for our glee,
Have faded into ashes.

What is the point of being free,
When we will become hurt than we thought we could ever be?
When after we fought for the rights of you and me,
Our problems are getting worse?

Then what is the need of this norm,
That seems to lead us to a gruesome turn?
What is the need of this loom,
That will only lead us to our doom?

Freedom has it's limits.
Absolute freedom has it's hitches.

How can we have what we cannot control,
When our children are dying in their own household?

When the freedom that seemed so sweet,
Has forged us even deeper beneath?

When the arrays of the open life,
Has led us deeper into strife?

When the thoughts we felt were at bay,
Are only leading us astray?

Absolute freedom is not for our day.
Not for our children.
Nor their children.
Nor their children's children.

It must always have it's limits.
Laws are meant to be obeyed, not to be taken away.

Norms are meant for their honour, not to be flung with disarray.

No matter what we may do, it will always come back to these two -

The blind cannot lead the blind.
Laws are here to offer peace of mind.