A Rose To My Need Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

The heroes bleed
As they vie in this tainted bedlam
You are the
Rose to my need -
My vicissitude that takes no
Caution nor heed
When it comes to
Taming the savagery of
The harrowing duress.

Do not undress
My art of war,
You will unravel the scars
Of this indomitable farce.
Clothe my farce,
And you will hear
Like a quartet striking
The succinct puissance
Of love’s hymn.

You are the rose
To my need
Like the Summer night
That is dank
With the rain of submission

You are the rose
That I speak of in time
Of cholera and
Seclusions
For to hold you by
That sturdy body
Veiled with thorns,
Is to unsheathe a love
That is incendiary
As I make love with
The fires of passion,
Hatred and abandonment.

You are the rose
That calls
Me the sobriquet of fools:
A madman.