the wilderness

the stillness that comes

when an adventure takes over;

 

the way the wind blows

harder against my cheeks

 

turning red in the wilderness

my feet were made to bring good news.

 

but the trees stay silent;

disparity is a memory

 

my sword

in a spacious place.

 

I am clothed in the wardrobe

of a queen, of a foreigner

 

am I,

I am

 

righteous

I am forgiven

 

there is no waiting here;

time does not tarry.

 

nor does it seek vengeance on a slave

 

for free, my soul

is set.

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