On F and P

I like freedom…
Maybe it’s not personal,
Maybe just in general sense.
Freedom and Pride…

But is it right?
They say that pride is of the devil,
And it might be.
And if I say that pride is all I have,
It means I don’t have anything to give
Because one doesn’t give away his pride
If it is true.
It keeps the boundaries around,
The walls surround me,
Cage me from the crowd.
And maybe now
I’m just the one of fear and not of pride.

Some people say that fear is good and it’s of god,
As one’s afraid of hellish flames
And of this fear won’t commit a sin,
Maybe he won’t commit a thing
And not a thing one would commit of pride.

Ironic as it sounds for now,
What can bring you so high,
Can put you oh so low.

In inspiration for such words is there a sin?
Or maybe it is purer than it seems.

The answer is now hidden
In covers of my doubts.
That I’ve been busy feeding
With thoughts and dreams, and sounds…

But let them pass,
They’ll go away.
If in the past they are to stay,
Then there is hope that for some day
I’ll have my answers for this play.