Nested within mystery’s embrace
A memory of old gleams

It whispered stories of a time
As old as the aeons seem

“Is it the devil?”, a few exclaimed
As it stole the mirth of men

“It is God”, others proclaimed
For it made the liars repent

An impasse, thus was born
That made the lives of all forlorn

The din of this either/or
Let the sigh of choices beknown

Though the whispers that reached
Spoke of those who were free

They still echoed the cries
Of a life far too dreary

For under the weight of choice
One could all but flee

As good became evil
In the song of a siren’s plea

If freedom is merely
The ear between

The voice of the devil
And god’s decree

What of the heart
That yearns to feel

Of words unspoken
The silence of glee

So the heart, to the ear
Sung ballads in fear

But whispers and sighs
Neither waned nor disappeared

It rhythmed its beat
To the hum of a mould

That sounds of beyond
Could never behold

For freedom, it knew
Was a dismal tale of old

That spoke in vain
Of the life foretold

When silence was all
That reigned supreme

The world became what
The heart had deemed

Though deafened but free
Of the freedom that cleaved

It could hear no longer
To the tremor of its beat