A Vessel To Tread The Silent Haunting Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

As the wind cleaves
Through the brambly
Bushes and the petrified
Willows;
The homeliest of
All the shadows sleep
In the rancid pavements -
I trudge the suburban
As I was holding
Your hand,
Terrorized, tremulous
Like a child quivering.

The streetlights
Are ambivalently
Lighting the entirety
Of the moon-drenched
Asphalts and the windows
Breathe the scent
Of a soft slumber
Upon acquiescent beds.
And I felt your hand
Grip me tighter
As you hear
The howls of the
Moon's supercilious
Incertitude: a silent
Haunting.

And sometimes
I am also soused
In the waters of
An eternal void -
The corruption strays
Too long
And here, as I hold
You, it seems as if
You are so far away
In this expanse.
By the curbside you
Took a superfluous
Sojourn and I can see
Your exasperation.
I held you in my arms
Delicate like a glass flame
As you utter your
Encumbrance.

I can see your
Quaint dress rustle
As the austere wind
Tinkers with the seams,
Your eyes lost glow
And the strength
Of your body has left.
Let me cradle you
I will go through the flames
And undulate through
Thickets of blood
And chasms of bent time,
I am your vessel