Terrible Freedom - TW Walsh

Transmission from a dying lion’s mouth

Made mute by a simple misconception

By the time you hear it

It’s gone

Shoulda listened when the clouds made wisdom

Drawn water from God’s own cistern

By the time you drink it

It’s dry

Point your eye at the sun that’s dying

You could do it if you weren’t trying

The void wants the form to stay alive

Recognize a terrible freedom

Whatever comes, just let it arrive

The motor runs despite a shortage

Of a fuel that can burn with justice

By the time you start it

You’re on fire

Lift your face to a sky that’s weeping

Open wide to the dread that’s creeping

Never let your fear turn you wild

Come to terms with a terrible freedom

Whatever comes, just let it arrive