the state’s men came to take the poet’s home
she Trekked a desert page
they took her clothes they took her skin
she Glided through ink seas

they locked her in a prison dark and bare
she Soared through trees of rhyme
they snapped her body killed her every love
she Scaled the bluffs of verse

when there was nothing else to take, they snatched
her Pen and made her watch it break, she wept
and raged and then she shrilled:
how now can i be, Free?