Foolish Aspirations

It is only a fool who is free,
When forces force them down, they speaks against the odds,
When feelings urge them on, they strive to indulge,
It is only a fool who is true,
Who excels in their passion and revels in their anger,
Who repels tact and diplomacy and all trivial banter,

I aspire to be a fool,
For it is only a fool who knows how to love,
Whose untempered words and ideal and passions and zeal,

Release them from the rusty confines of savage society,

I hope to liquidate my thoughts, measured gauges and extroverted cages,
My aversion and caution, my calculated miscalculations,
My estimations, mitigations, inclinations to proclamations,

To revel in the lust for life, burning and tearing and flowing like a flaming fletcher's arrow,
To breathe and to die and to feel the whispering wind on the wings of heartbroken sparrows,

To be like the fool I yearn to be free,
To purge inhibitions in the fire of He,
To do,
To speak,
To love,
To be.