The Prodigal Son

I am no sheep, no solitaire wretch
bleating in desperate call for my hedge
No shepherd will lead me back to my flock
for I did not bafflingly wander, I walked

 I am no coy, for he does not seek
stuck on the church bench week after week
eat 'cause he ought to, drink 'cause he may
blood of the father he does not obey

I am the lost, the prodigal son
willingly leaving, not banished nor shun
In spite of a father I no longer need
to live as a sinner, ungodly and free

The Prodigal Son af Emile Salome, 1863