The Downfall of Freedom

Tristan Robert Lange

Where have the fates found us?
Where have the winds blown us?
What started as explosive ecstasy
Ended in icy-hard, frigid doom.

The pisser is not what is found
But what has been tragically lost.
Frail are the fingers of passionate love
Gripping tight to what was...nevermore.

Lizards celebrate the great poet
Who rocks the world like an orgasm
Erupting in a climax for the ages,
Then vanishing like all wild lovers do.

Yet the spiders and parasitic bugs
Are ignorant to the fantastic plot,
A turn not unlike the creepers they are.
Willful slaves are the downfall of freedom.

  • Author: Tristan Robert Lange (Online Online)
  • Published: July 25th, 2022 22:38
  • Comment from author about the poem: "If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite." - William Blake This is commentary on the 60s in light of the current era, all the while an ode to the Lizard King, Jim Morrison, an American Poet who I believe understood this commentary very well, even wrote of it himself! R.I.P. James Douglas Morrison.
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 17
  • Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments2

  • L. B. Mek

    'Willful slaves are the downfall of freedom.'
    or
    'freedom, is the breeding platform
    for willing, slaves...!'
    here's how they do it
    they make us vote, choosing from
    rotten picks
    then when sht fcks up
    those of us with ego's, refuse
    to admit accountability, instead
    we deflect
    blaming this, that
    and the flying pig with a top hat...
    then, words like 'herds'
    is brandished about
    against 'radicals', who know it all
    and while we continue, to evermore
    splinter
    into, evermore fractured societies
    they scare us with war here
    covid or pig flu, there
    keep us on our toes, meanwhile
    2020 to 2022
    covid hell, created more billionaires
    than ever..
    then we try, philosophy a solution
    not knowing
    tomorrow, another lockdown will be coming...
    .
    .
    .
    'Where have the fates found us?
    Where have the winds blow us?
    What started as explosive ecstasy
    Ended in icy-hard, frigid doom.

    The pisser is not what is found
    But what has been tragically lost.'
    Amen!
    (insightful commentary, dear poet
    thanks for sharing)

    • Tristan Robert Lange

      Wow thank you for such a thoughtful, and thought-provoking comment. As for whether willful slaves at the downfall of freedom or whether freedom is a breeding ground for willful slaves…It all depends on how you define what freedom is. I see it more as a both/and rather than an either/or. Again, Thank you for closely reading and for your thoughtful response! Rock on!

    • Saxon Crow

      Get onto Netflix and watch fantastic fungi.



    To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.