Frail Beauty Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

In the ancient times and elder wine,
Basking in the ambiance of a humid skyline;
Gardens propped up in the sky

And the luminous face in the mirror,
The virgin mirage of the dusky inferior
Fleeting like children in a sty

The clockwork and the pendulum,
Sounded like the hands of impending doom
Like strands of hair, resilient, yet poorly dyed

And the silk of the wings,
Among the time of vapid shining things
The dissipated beauty in the century’s decline

Look at the eyes of the debilitated child,
Shackled in the prongs of a creature, ashen and wild
There’s a hope for pardon in the heavenly dew

Now hidden in the preposterous lengthy orbit,
Lies the turbulent weaving days into cold feet
The world sleeps while the eyes are open.

And the tiara worn at the forehead’s crest,
That seethes with beauty from a lady’s chest
Clear like the blue waters, is her frail beauty.

I am surrounded with countless faces,
The splendor without humility’s traces
I feel jaded, I am surrounded by wolves.