This freedom that's bestowed on us
is not devoid of suffering.
Each tie we cut exercises
our tolerance of agony.
Relinquish the comforts of
mind and flesh for thoughts to let shrink
and relish the silent breathing.
Relinquish these ties to be free.

Suffering of the saints, the martyrs
are cast from the same hardened mould—
fights indistinguishable from
each other, as the battered remains
reminds the other of paths that
destinies might have had foretold.
Both fights are but fights of freedom
fought in their own unyielding ways.

A fight of the middle class and
a plight of downtrodden and poor;
sufferings in lieu of comfort,
sharp blades in lieu of bouquets.
Choices shroud the destined outcomes
lurking beyond translucent doors
opened their own definition
of freedom—would’ve chosen anyways!

There aren't leftist propagandas,
no doctrines of righteous right,
no drug psychotropic enough
for truth that illusion portrays;
or the temporal suspension of
reality for our delight—
As we search for our own freedom
ourselves, in our own selfish ways.

This freedom that's bestowed on you
is not devoid of sufferings
during your spatial–temporal 
stroll through a predetermined world.
Was suffering your exercise in
your mindful self-discovery
while you and your freedom wait
for the certain future to unfurl?

Note: I was meditating on the idea of freedom and how discomfort and suffering is a part of achieving any form of freedom—mental, physical, or spiritual. I also found it amusing that no matter how we take the suffering, we wouldn't be drifting away from a deterministic world if that is the case. —S.B. (16.05.2020)