It was not a dream interrupted,
More likely shattered glass on the floor.
Someone's collection of photographs not matching reality.
One final and undeniable case of insanity.
Was the moment presenting itself?
The reality so long denied by me, you and
Everyone else, palpable, right there at my face.
It was not a dream, for sure.
It was just pain, immensurable pain.
The pain of the father, never present.
The pain of the mother, always there.
The pain of the son, who always dares.
The moment of truth, when failed and betrayed, is just everywhere.
Can you reach me now, for one last time?
Could you say a word that will get me by?
In this moment of darkness,
Could you sing me one last lullaby?
Were these moments that I reigned all over the sea,
Invincible, untouchable by power, love or god.
Living without the fear that I could ever die or wish one last lullaby.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem