for years he followed the fool
idolized that foolishness even
he lost himself and could not recover
back his real identity
was he able to drink that
witch's potion?
one day his eyes open
to the other possibilities
realized that the witch is eating him piece by piece
until only his bones were left
it was too late
he is only a set of bones
without any cartilages
to link one
to the other
that i think was his tragedy
and so we pray
may the witch die
may our potions expire
may we know how to graft
flesh
may we know how to
wrap with skin
our bones
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem