The Meandering Lion Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I know the tale
That wafts like wind
His spine was embellished
Through his thickly sewn
Sartorial flame;

Sometimes I'd crane
My head past the windowpanes
And I see you there
Guzzling yourself
And I wish to be more of
A comrade - we built bridges
Only to ruin them.

As you starve yourself in oblivion,
Do not forget,
You are the meandering lion.
You are not forged
With regret;
You are the child of the Sun.

As we slither away
Disentangling, waning endlessly
Like futile cacophonies from
Sirens, I will remember how
You consigned yourself to
This warfare - you are an adamant.

I have entered a different trance
Apart from your soliloquized
Travails and soon we will find
Each other at both dimensions,
Either breaking yet again in redundancy
Or basking in the ambiance of the stars

But then, tonight
Comrade, like a soldier in battle
We bleed in different places.
We bleed in different places.