I devour without want,habituated to the feast and to open skies;with nothing plated save endlessness forebounded—it pairs with consequence as its prize.

And there stood I always, at a gate,die-cut crypto keys in hand;Unlocking every unfastened bolt—then promptly forgetting where I am.

The sticky wind offering not a compass,unlit stars likewise offering none,Freedom would prove straightjacketed, it seemed,like a cold hot oft-vanishing and ever-present sun.

I chose every path, but belonged to no road;Wore history's chains—bearing a strange and familiar load.My voice was thus clearly and unrecognizably my own—echoing a lost and yet-to-come past,a mimic of gifts and curses one cannot outlast.

The walls I escaped were ones I rebuiltfrom blueprints of longing and the mortar of guilt.The farther I wandered, the more I becamea ghost in the crowd with unattributed fame.

My face in the mirror spoke languages new,Reflected in voices I no longer knew.I’ve named myself countless times, and yeteach naming is a half-vow I’d just as soon forget.

Unbounded by gravity while crushed by the air,Am I lifted and drowned by that dank, heavy stare:In the wealth of the open can one squander the whole—As abject anything hard-codes the soul.

And then come the thoughts, fleet, yet persist—enpatterned yet unmade, obvious yet missed.In seeking coherence, we sharpen the blur,and in the grey chasm of not, find a new saboteur.

With incontrovertible evidence of what’s never occurred,Convinced of convictions about what's not overheard;It’s righteous and easy, this Castle of Truths,Where clarity sharpens as meaning eludes.

Is it freedom to drift, untethered, alone?Or to kneel in a place and call it your own?To live without Bible, or to pure spirit unmoored?Some prisons are gentle, with wide-open doors.

So here I am remanded, in the space in-between,Not shackled, not sovereign—every surface something, unseen.Betwixt those dual realms are what you do and don't choose—yet every act defines how and what you win and you lose.

And so now shall I pause, or build with constraint,it’s not to forsake, but to re-acquaint.For choice without context dissolves into mist—a burdenless burden one shant not resist.

Call me not captive, nor sovereign alone—but the echo between, the half-polished stone.Freedom should be entensioned, not open-spaced without end—A rope when well-tethered shall help you ascend.

So thoust taste, if thou must, what the platter conceals—knowing not every fullness confirms what it feels.The banquet is bounded, though endlessly laid,and the cost is exacted just as the price is paid.