Freedom They are no longer beautiful or kind. Their words of cruel intention find no place beneath my skin. Their venom trails too weak to reach. I breathe to fill the sails to carry me across the sea. Awoken from a miasma slumber. No kinfolk walk my path or tread before me. Young land full of beauty and wonder. My feet are earthed to the soil of Aotearoa. I call home. M~
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