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The Rebel Soul
Disembodied, floating free, Swept above the windy hills, Lashing at the rolling sea, Fleeing where the spirit wills,
A soul unleashed across the world To speed its way, with freedom full It leaps, its outstretched tendrils coiled To rip and rend; a cyclone bull.
It has no ties that bind to earth, It knows no bonds to hold its form, But writhes and twists and howls its mirth And has its being in the storm.
Upon its thought there is no reign Upon its heart there is no hold; An entity in joyous strain That knows IT IS, so can be bold.
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