So, let it be professed that thou art free;
To surrender the prospects of being,
For no longer am I immersed in thee,
And recall of thine own way tis fleeing.
Yet all that wilt be, t’will in thee be lost;
For such distance o’er time tis built on greed,
And avarice tis thine own marriage tossed,
That liberating spirit plants the seed.
As Nature’s will doth decree thee venture forth
And look about with misty loving eyes
For thine moral compass tis fixed due North
Sailing upon the dream under silk skies
To hold thee in tender beauteous reprise
All forces joined grasping love that ne’er dies.