My prison bars become birds,
Black shadows that fly
Then fade out of view.
I pray I don’t rebuild them to protect myself
From freedom.
Listen, God is singing through the Elms, first as thunder, then as wind, then as trembling leaves and limb.
My prison bars become birds,
Black shadows that fly
Then fade out of view.
I pray I don’t rebuild them to protect myself
From freedom.
ππͺπΌπ
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