The Ballad of Roki Moonstone

Clutched to his leather vest
was a printed picture
of an anime character
whose eyes were bladed mysteries
and whose futuristic clothing
settled all the questions
as to whether he had superpowers,
which he never needed.

Carl, now being rolled away
on a metal gurney,
was the victim
of the victimless crime
of identity theft
of oneself;
he had pretended to be
the on-line voice
of the fictitiously delicious
Roki Moonstone,
a personality whose lack
of public appearances
had driven questions
as to whether
he had ever been
and thus why
so many adoring fans
had gathered
at his wake
on hearing
that he had fallen prey
to some sadistic bastard
who had jealously discerned
the hidden lair
from which Roki
had so widely published
the vision
of his spiritual infusions,
"The Inner Eye."

The icon surely now
was dead,
and Carl T. Priestly,
a 49 year-old
mechanic
from Des Moines,
was troubled no longer
concerning
whether he had made
a difference
in the world,
for taped
to thousands
of computers
and bathroom mirrors
to start the day
were the words,
"The broken dreams
of those who wake
are meant
to calm the soul,
for those who
always see the light
are beggars
with a bowl;
the darkness then
is not a curse
to crush the soul to sand
but rather to engage the heart
and equalize each man."

runningturtle87