Acryllic on hand-made paper. "A hundred times I mention her name in loneliness,
a thousand times I shout her name into the wilderness.
In my wildest dreams and tormenting nightmares I have cried for her,
at life’s every twist and turn I have reached for her.
In the prison’s dark alleys I have searched for her,
in my mother’s womb I must have craved for her.
She is more the image I seek than who she probably can be.
She is someone about whom I have an archive of unwritten poetry…
Though a dream she wakes me with hope;
with twinkling eyes and soothing lips.
She is she and much much more,
her beauty glows as she ages.
When the rope turns its final coil to squeeze that last drop of draining blood,
I’ll smile at the mirage of her vision in full entity and shout her name with all the
might
Lo, I shall shout “Freedom!”
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