Dormant Days And Inactive Nights Poem by RIC BASTASA

even if there is no way
for sleep to sleep in the couch
in the bed
the body tries to find
rest... no way, no way,
a whisper is heard in the ear
there is no way out
from here
there is this sound of despair
the music of
hopelessness
you who probably hear it
tonight
in these dormant hours
think that the notes
are divine
you who soundly lies on the sofa
of your
drunken feats
probably cannot distinguish
what is not there
anymore

i am shattered
but there will be no pieces
to piece
to make whole

i fly without wings
like air
you cannot see what is real.