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)