One for My Baby
His
single-mindedness has been gone.
Became
contradictory.
Relinquished
to fight with
his
chimera.
Now,
he denudes, takes off his self.
Dismembers.
His
lulls have to give shape
to
his own abyss, as well as to open
the
portal of enlightenment he does
not
have without
identifying
the image of his emptiness.
All
his convictions are to be cut off.
Nor
is he not inaudible while he has to summarize
his
own epic—a life being
not
even wrong,
nor
any sigh can be heard.
She
is like no one else.
In
the casino, the piano swallows all the heavy notes
instead
of him, while
dropping
them one by one into an
imperceptible
mouth
until
the culmination.
A
quarter is lost.
She
is forgotten.
She
is no more
In
his mirror.
Her
age is wrapped in wistfulness.
His
robotic carrion needs
life
for raising the balance of his moneys—
nickel
rocking rocks to change the destinies.
He
has never hoped to be a better one,
but
he forced himself to become a true story
of
life.
His
entire life,
he
has been a poetic dreamer
locked
inside his oppressive subconscious.
He
has never stopped questioning himself
about
the world around him
while
he was afraid to live.
Ceaselessly,
he has balanced his beliefs as he would
like
to bend some sounds
for
no more sadness about the true stories of life.
Now,
she is no more his tomorrow,
albeit
he is still in love with her
while
trying to be
a
compassionate one.
[MARIETA MAGLAS]
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