Owned by the angels is slavery still.
Share, share, they all demand in soft voices.
What is there left to share?
A soul filled with magic is magical only when free.

A heart flowing over with love can be squeezed dry
Until love is dead.
Even a soft caress can feel like a vise
when one is owned
By the imprisoning hands.

A fight for freedom can only be fought alone
For to seek a liberator is to seek enslavement.
A loving master is a master still and
freedom can only be won in each solitary soul.