prophet - call from freedom

listen on SounCloud: listen on VK: When I came to the enemy, I let them chain my hands to the ceiling and hang me. Only the enemy was the hope to cure me of the pain of loss. And now, tied to the ceiling, in a dark closet, with a landline phone on a countertop in the corner of a brick wall and the moon peeking out from under the bars inserted between the holes for freedom, I hear only his laughter. seeing me broken, crushed, defeated, so that after decades of struggle I could just give up, finish what I no longer have the strength for, he hits me on the back with a whip, leaving the last painting on the defeated one. And I’m still silent, nothing will hurt me as much as the departure of the last one, for which I fought. I am imprisoned and calm, but my essence was different, any cricket died if it was even a meter near me, absolutely everything that limited my freedom died in the same second, and now I am locked up for dozens of days until someone blocks the freedom of my breathing. And the only thing that can renew the struggle of the surrendered is a reminder of what gave me life. The phone started ringing, after many years of silence, and then I realized that it was a call from freedom.