The Nominees Poem by Benjamin Chiu Uy

The Nominees

I am made from the nights of
colloborative tales and trysts,
Made from the air dusts, thoughts and naked prayers,

With all the vigils and its lonely siloloquies beyond the limits of my immagintions,
Untying this knots of complicated realities.

People who are you're loved ones,
People who once loved you,
Are discarded day by day like seeds and pollens,
Figments of history, archeology and the death galleries of a night's passages,
Vanished from our usualvisions,
From the thin air like cattles and sheeps.

Are a candidates, sad to say,
You are among the candidates sad to say, the nominees.

The man with a Fawles masks, who lords it up the sky,
The companion of the dead souls of these unspeakables regions, comands,
Whose every gesture, words, and syllables,
Are the night's rising fevers and the moons of high vengeance

As i watched like a bat at these intricate mires and patterns,
Occult blood and the dark masterstrokes,

Disasters and more calamities,
Fates of unspeakable horrors for the bodies,
Pressuring me to fly to your dark unknowns, mute and a forbidden tale.