Naked, Crowned Pilgrim Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Glance at the frivolity of the rascals,
Meandering like dilapidated lions
All along the streets of my village - my world
Of sweetly scented subtle allegories
That tomorrow, the Sun will singe the most
Untimely, unduly over our corrosive bodies.

I am an abused, naked pilgrim
In her pilgrimage - my chosen path.
And there is nothing in it
But to trifle morose and sordid fancy.
The heavens demurred, the firmaments shunned tightly
Opaquely, I tried to open my eyes of vascular, thin and saturnine
Sheathes.

I am maimed by the harum-scarum circumstances
And impulses that send me into a carnival of naivety.
Look at the Sun, portentous glaze
Look at her face, famishing facade
Of sluggishly dying lights -
I watched her fade into the shorelines of rattling marbles,
I let her flutter away to the transatlantic abeyance
And now,
There is nothing left to watch,
Nothing left to let go of -
Now I must let myself seize
The inner scaffolds and structures of redemption
For I deserve redemption,
Like queens deserve scepters and bejeweled erudition,
And kings deserve a glinting throne of arrogance.