War

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Justice was held down by chains of corruption.
Her white robes changed black with death of innocenence.
She remained blind to the sight…
But the smell of the burning of freedom, would always remain.
A tear fell from under her blindfold hot against her marbled cheek.
It was time, once more, to pick up her sword.
It was time, once more, to rage war on corruption.
But the chains held her down.
She could only lend support to those who were trying to break them.
So much pain.
So much heartache.
Movements marching around her.
Freedom.
Equality.
Justice.
It was the right of the people!
Yet corruption locked her away.
She struggles against the chains.
She sees the good helping.
The Movements!
The riots turned parades!
Chip by chip the chains are breaking.
People have had enough!
They want her freed!
She needs to be freed!
For She serves only the people!
She rises up and stands in front of the crowds.
No more.
Chained no more.
She lends her soul and sword to the generals of this war.
May it be enough…
For Justice may be blind,
But She isn’t dead.

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