Looking over my shoulder,
I can’t say I remember
a crossroads or even a fork in the path
with a free choice of which way to go.
This is how it seems to me this far up the pike –
as if the word freedom has never been applicable.
Thus considerably more agreeable
is the premise of my own necessary annihilation
when removed from my shoulders,
its particulars locked into inevitability;
convinced there never was
an autonomous self – an existence apart –
from which to freely choose or reject
my obliterating surrender to the One.
O child of God, the concept of freedom applies
neither to Illusion nor the Infinite-Eternal.
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