LAST CYCLE © 2008
Let us cease entanglements, of blossoming illusions,
The current film is harsh,
demands our reflections.
Humanity cannot persist,
On this stage, the play is already crumbling.
The performance, repeated, is more than worn out,
In every magazine, every meditation, the truth drifts away.
You were a bow, in constant tension,
But in daily combat, you forgot what’s important.
The iris you see needed colour,
Brightness, life, soul, love.
And when you recognised yourself, the mirror spoke:
"You are nothing", the reflection silenced you.
Not even a distorted reflection, or childish laughter,
That spoiled pout, now without profile.
Once loved, chin held high,
Now empty, in a forgotten world.