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MARIETA MAGLAS

SONGSOPTOK THE WRITERS BLOG | 10/15/2015 |





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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