"Brightest in dungeons, Liberty thou art,
For there thy habitation is the heart." - Byron
Oh, Freedom, just
as Hubris kills the soul,
'Twere death to have yourself the only goal.
As greatest Freedom breeds but great abuse,
Thou must be honored for some other use,
Use best applied where tyranny doth reign.
Where Freedom rules, rules must her constrain.
Freedom, as a river in its banks confined
Would not be river were it not so chained.
So every soul and nation wishing to be free
Must put constraints upon its Liberty.
As astronauts in easy orbit round the sun,
Of gravitation free, can neither walk nor run.
So Liberty lifts her torch upon the sea
Whose crashing waters do appear most free,
But whose black billows rage and boil,
Chaos unchanneled, a Dionysian coil.
She also turns her back upon her native shores
Where now a chaos of ungoverned freedom roars.
The frontier farmer and the pioneer of yore
Understood their Freedom, albeit they were poor.
Now to that hardy plowman, how do we explain
That Freedom's ox hath stretched his yoke in vain?
That his progeny are yahoos and use their Liberty
For license to advance a sordid, vicious litany
Of guns, drugs, pornography, and excessive wealth,
Ignoring education, poverty, and public health?
Or if the Minuteman courageous, whose Bill of Freedoms wishes
Were just about his rifle and his right to form militias,
Could see his great, great, grandsons arguing like fools
Freedoms allowing children to bring handguns into schools.
As Man's desires, ungoverned, can never fill or cease,
This is the imposthume of too much wealth and peace,
That inward breaks and shows no cause without
Why nations fail and Freedom comes to naught.
Thus do we elect a government of hacks
To lift the rule governance from our backs.
A lawless nation is a land of fools.
Just think of it! A nation free of rules.