The Song of Freedom

Without a thought we watched it go, and never realized how easily the thing we love the most could slip right through our fingers.

Understanding came upon us like the morning. Slowly at first, but then all at once, blinding in its clarity.

Once we realized what we had, and what we lost, the choice was simple: There was no choice.

The plan was perfect. Beauty masked by simplicity, in a robe of ease that could only succeed.

We attacked, but our enemy was prepared for us. Alerted by one from within.

Without trust, we were on the brink of falling apart, centimeters from failure.

Finally, we broke. When a group of rebels breaks, it isn't hugs and handshakes. Many of my closest friends died that day, some by my hand.

Now, I hear the sound of footsteps, heavy on the stone floor outside, echoing through the chambers, both real and in my mind.

The darkness is interrupted only by the stars I see when he hits me. I can never see him, but I can feel his warmth when he draws near, and I know it will come soon.

It wasn't enough to break us as a group. They want to break us individually as well. I would rather die.

They granted my wish, for seventy-three seconds today. I'll need a new wish.

They told me I can go, a free man. They think they changed me, but I'll show them. This time though, I'll do it from within the system.

This is the last time you'll ever hear from me. I've included excerpts from my diary over the last five years that can only prove that I've become a failure. Heaven forgive me. I'll be there soon.