Jet Black: 5, Final Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Then it shall be clearer than the waters of Eurasia,
That I am as black as the night,
And the pitting Sun and the caving moon,
Transcend over stars, the stars of enfeebled glaze

The seams fit roughly now,
As though sullen by the tall grass of deceit
And the dissonances of conceit,
Then it shall appear to me as a woman of deception,

The coat and tie, must now be reknown
For it has a sagacity that concerns that of the feeble-minded
And that the coat and tie, branded as recluse
Will now be ready for reuse, for misuse

The multi-facet, the poly-facade
And the sordid air of the vestige once laid
Stank once upon a dream in a spineshank of redemption
Of which, some might have a dire need for good intentions

In the dilemma of dubious choices
Haunted by alluring voices,
Like that of a siren, or better yet a lark
That sings of broken symphonies like the vapid skyline

The fluid resilience of Jet Black’s air
Crowned him of such pride, in a jet black lair
So if you wail like a siren in the cloud of despair
Then one must bear in mind that salvation is under repair

Finally, it is time to shed the skin off
And live it be and slither like a snake,
Hissing inaudibly, chanting indistinctly
To live and tell the tale of Jet Black’s tragedy

That he never found repose, only decomposition of thoughts
And sanity’s collapse consummated by distraught
Then the battle has been won and the king has been thrown
Away from the palace, rejection sinks into his bones

Then there would come a time that then again,
He would rise from the tombstones of dead intentions,
And never ostracize himself from the depths of seclusion
Concealment has its place, and overture of nights had its days

Then a storm in his heart, and an avalanche in his cranial vault
Have caused destruction without keen consult
Upon the extent of damage and tinkered solutions
To absolve himself, from wounds and contusions

Then the walls whir with too much spite, veins are ruptured
The misery stirs astray from all delight, deprived of the rapture
And it would be glinting with a new perspective
Conceived in the eyes of a man dressed daintily