Are we living in freedom

We had some free afternoons this week so time to write.
Prompt for Poets United: Authentic. When I think about being authentic I think about being truly yourself. I wrote a a few (simple) poems about that. The very first poem I ever wrote in my life was for writers island and was about being yourself. Therefore this time I got stuck on the word freedom lol

Freedom

Are we living in freedom?
What is freedom?
Is it freedom of speech?

Try to cast truth into the arena
some will release the lions,
seeking to draw your blood.
The truth is too threatening
for those who linger
in a fool’s paradise.

Is freedom merely the absence of chains?
Or are we magnetized by money,
chasing privilege,
planting gardens of opportunity
with no promise of harvesting joy?
A few dance with demons
where vultures circle high above.

Countless crowds are trapped in webs,
shackled to sex, alcohol, drugs, food
trying to fill the emptiness inside,
vast as a barren battlefield,
drowning out a world
that falls short of the wonder we imagined.

And yet freedom exists.
We can find it within,
in the twilight of the mind.
It waits at the crossroads
of heart and soul,
along a golden path
illuminated by wisdom,
guided by virtue.

There, truth and love reside.
There, the authentic self is born.
A place where we choose
how to act, not merely react,
where we serve the world
without asking the world to serve us.

Beauty walks there,
in red sunsets with white wings,
among blue poppies.
Beauty walks with the colors of freedom