One day, you will be like me,
Alone in a room,
Barren inside and out,
Eyes lost like shadows
Lurking in the impasse
Lurching like a pendulum,
In a routine that drains what zeal
And zest for existence
You have
In the coarse palms of your hands
And the city, the winch between
The strands of your hair.
One morning, you will wake up like me,
Heavy with breaths, respiration
Seemed like threats of annihilation
I surmise you’d be the same,
One morning, With savvy words
You will wake up like me,
The man left,
Desolated, a punctured car
In a dead garage of filth and bereavement
Sleeping like a child,
Never to wake up tomorrow.
One night, you will sleep like me,
Writhing endlessly,
Like waves in a sea
Sending sand dunes back to their mothers
Quelling the veracity behind forever,
With your breath smelling like burning embers,
I promise you this
One night, you will sleep like me.
And in one more life,
You will look for me,
I am presumptuous
Like a man in his golden toes,
Heartless, no woes
In his mind,
Only jittering bugs and cicadas
Slumbering like fools,
With simpers in their sleep,
Bruxism, gnashing teeth
And they annoy you in your sleep,
I promise you this
The turbulent times of mine,
You will experience it.
The empathetic self,
Nonetheless, would carry you
Only if you say,
That things are not good in this way,
In this manner, where you falter
Toppling down like strongholds and castles
Flabbergasted, like a king robbed of his crown,
And a queen, with her name forgotten within the town
I will save you, beyond despair
Be patient, salvation is under repair
And then if it shall commence,
We shall dine, eat éclair
Sleep on a bed underneath the buoying chandeliers
And we would entrap aeons in our dreams.
Yet, this is a dream.
This will not happen.
I know you to well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem