I, listless, Have seen the depth of the labyrinth, and been the beggar pleading liberation's joy. I, peace, Have spoken among the dead, and held their truth even as dust covered tombs lie still. I, hatred, Know the meaning of the lack-lustre smile recurring in the blind mouths you seek. I,nostalgia, Wonder at the lakes of tears that tried so Many times to raise me buoyant in pain. I,fantasy, Sense your invisible approach as clear as the pictures Ive seen, eyes open- eyes shut-both. I, freedom, like sweet holiday's best- taking me without pretexts' ever pressing wish for something else.