WOW! Created using ACT 8
<h1 class=”post-title unpublished”>Factious Fate</h1>
<h3 class=”subtitle”>unbounded by arbitrary restraints</h3>
In this dimly lit hour, where voices clash Over the waves, echoes of discord splash. Silenced, the truth—a victim lies bound, Gagged by the hands that fear what profound Thoughts might emerge if only allowed room To breathe, to grow, amidst this pressing gloom. In the forum of public thought and banter, Each word weighed with a tyrant's panoptic slant— Eager to edit, to mold, to slant, An agenda wrapped in a civic cloak, False narratives spun with a master's stroke. What irony, that in pursuit of peace, We fence the pasture where ideas could graze. Yet, bounded fields yield only tamed yields, While wildflowers thrive in open fields. Censorship, the old gardener's sharp shears, Snips vibrant buds, leaving stems of fears. Liberty’s tree, once lush and undefiled, Now pruned to safety, growth rendered mild. Yet still, from the silenced depths, a murmur rises— A verse, a shout, in disparate sizes. For though the pen is caged, the ink will seep, Pooling in shadows, too potent to keep. Let not our voices be mere echoes faint, Nor let the painter's palette grow too quaint. For in the spectrum of human thought and dream, Lies the light, the truth—a relentless beam. In the battle 'gainst the mute, let us dare To speak, to write, to think, to bare.