Liberate

Cold hands and throbbing sight
Longing to belong
To embrace the wind
To hold on the passing time

Cold feet and still breathe
Gearing up to break free
To transcend the celestial delights
To pass the placid night

Cold heart and empty voice
Trying to sing a passionate song
Resonating laughter in the
Temple of my mind

If happiness is the longing of
Recurrence and repetition
Then blessed are the forgetful,
For they get the better
Even of their blunders.