Freedom paints itself the picture of a clear blue sky,
a place where dreams soar high.

It paints itself as the whisper of autumn breeze,
That rustles between leaves.

Freedom paints itself so steadily,
that puts our minds at ease.

Yet, are we free? We ask,
Under each smile, behind each mask.

In this world of grand skies and vast seas,
We ask whether we are truly free.

We speak of freedom of religion, of belief and of speech,
Then why are people so scared to live by what they preach?

We talk of freedom loud and proud,
Yet our thoughts are veiled, so hidden.

Are we truly free?
Or is it a lie we choose to believe?

We long for freedom, true and pure,
Yet, we turn a blind eye to the cure.
A cure that lies within every one of us,
A medicine that allows us to be fair and just.

In the choices we make from day to night,
There is a compass that holds us with might.

Morality is like a siren’s song,
Leading us to wisdom everlong.

Freedom is not in the wild,
It is in knowing right.

In standing just and true,
It is the highest form of freedom one can pursue.

For it is the moral light,
That becomes our guide on a starless night.

So let your action be just and pure
Be guided by what is right and true

For morality is an endearing friend,
That leads to freedom without end.