Hands Bound

Every hope
of the heart
seeming to be wrecked,
ruined,
and one wonders
if ones closest
have played the role
of becoming another kind
of Judas again,
as one's own tongue
is tied up,
tight,
to forbidden to say,
one's mouth closed up
again tight,
forbidden to express,
and one's hands
tied up tight
bound
behind one's back,
unable to touch,
while circumstances
that could have been
so very different
kick at one's heart
the way machine gun fire
would kick at one's heart
and one keeps falling
into the dust
of a wrecked dream,
of an original instance
came along,
whom one could really love
and one wonders
whether ones closest
have played the role
of another kind of Judas,
one wonders
not knowing anything
from the existential facts
of circumstances
kicking at one's heart,
thinking ones closest
never did say
that there is someone
who really loves
more than anything else
in this world.