Poem -

One more time

One more time

 This poem is a fictional, dramatic story, that takes place in a dystopian realm elaborated through the use of metaphorical structures that sometimes refer to reality, and some other times deviate from it.   

Look at me, one more time.

I killed my flamboyant love that I kept far and that I ignored as it was getting stronger with the passage of days.

Yes, far, as it burned, far, as I it reminded me of all the good things that I could have been but that I am not, as I was born in the wrong time and place.

I deserve you. Your eyes I can amaze, your body I can daze,

but you, you don't deserve to be thrown in the race in which all my suffering and brutish glories take place.

No! Why would I debase your status, darken your days and enchain your happiness to my throw of the dice.

You're tender and fragile, and sitting upon a modest throne, high enough to keep you distant from the thunderstorms.

Your soul was rendered so pure that the slightest blow would break it. Certainly I would not let you join the swarm, in which I was born.

It's bewildering gales and cruel endings down here, my dear.

We cry for help, when strong we scalp. We pray for a God that we love and fear.

We urge him to descend and had he done such a foolishness, we would stab him. Triumph will erase the sin and wine will cheer the drear.

We were damned, and we'll still be damned, and to the day we leave we'll have no souls and no one will collect our tears,

and turn them into medals for the struggles that we had to beat, struggles that your soul would pierce.

For years I stood in denial and looked at the likes of you as likes of me.

For years I have considered a beautiful heart a worthy price for my constant pain and anxiety.

For years I have suppressed all desires for glory, and waited for a people's movement, and retained; along with a few; my unshakable piety.

Alas, later I have discovered, that I have followed the wrong religion, and that to my lord, it was a blasphemy.

And today, here I stand in the front rows, getting stronger as time goes, dreaming of a sacred victory.

Today, you can find me sitting, with my rivals, my precious enemies, throwing my dice and humming my war lullabies.

Today, your love has been my easiest victim, and my most treasured; now lost; company.

But if I killed it, and celebrated its death, it is because it was the only way, to close the gate to doom and agony

for you, my lady.

But look at me, one more time.
 

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