The Sleeper Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

The sleeper, hoisted by a lull cloud
With a face for a dream, all too proud
A sigh, in exchange for life, life of a simpering fool
That revolves around days not of anguished 365

Trudging past the vale,
With mouths stomping like brutes
Floating, the celestial exploit in a parachute
Of a young, perishing delicate subconscious

The meadows not of sugar,
But of prancing cougars and phantoms
Wearing veils entwined by sorrow
Of the mother’s drooping, heavy eyes

Euthanasia in a dream;
Then one must sing highly of it,
Sympathy presents itself, wrapped in porcelain
The averted lambency of diamonds and bloodstain

The esteemed vessel of forked prongs
And the speeding carousel of requiems and songs
Instigate the intricacy of dreams,
And the sleeper wakes in the lucidity of the raze

The sleeper speaks with a foreign tongue,
And breathes through the glass with restless lungs
The heart, yes, the hollow ravine
Of flourishing nightmares, omitting splendid dreams.