Dance of Freedom

The air around me
is seemingly 
cold,
fold by fold.
To me, 
it gets old, 
yet is new 
as the rising sun’s dew.
When I think of people,
my mind wanders off on how 
they flew past each other like seagulls;
wings clashing with the wind,
with the salty water hitting their "freedom"
engraved feathers.
Freedom is a word
of dire and 
devastating truths,
yet ironic beginnings.
Everyone seems to comprehend its meaning,
yet still remain clueless
as to what it may refer to precisely.
It may be considered
philosophical to use;
to confuse;
to abuse
such a term;
however, each person in the end,
has their own suitor
in the form of Freedom
that guides them to a dance
that no spell could cast.
In their head lies a dance with Freedom
to a never ending song,
yet I find that my song
is a silent one.
When the melody forms, 
I will dance with my suitor
forever more and cease to be alone
for Freedom will be my companion 
and I will be its.