Here at Least We Shall be Free

The mind is its own place, and in it self

Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.

What matter where, if I be still the same,

And what I should be, all but less then he

Whom Thunder hath made greater?


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Within the realm of thoughts, the mind does dwell,
Creating Heaven from Hell, and Hell from Heaven's spell.
What matters location, if I remain unchanged,
And my true essence, only slightly estranged,
By the tempest's might, rendering others grand,
Yet, I, no lesser than they, still withstand.


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