To live free without love is to never live free. Choose not for me that vacant prison. Rather, bid me be a slave to love, and I shall take up my shackles. In love’s open prison I shall thrive, for my shackles are my lover’s arms. Every lash from the cruel whip is my lover’s gentle kiss upon my brow. Yes, bid me be sold to love, as a slave is sold to master, and I shall serve willingly. I obey my master, Love, as I kiss my lover’s brow. As a slave to love I flourish, like a flower in the sun. But underneath the gentle shade, my labor takes its toll. To Love I must give my heart, as to the devil one gives their very soul.