Solitary Fray Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Tonight, as the canines
And the felines are asleep, juxtaposed to each other
And the reticence of the willow trees
Affect me - with vicarious rustling,
I have vied long enough,
And I do not trust my struggle -
I am fumbling in speech,
And withering in structure -
Yet, this taciturn events
Would lead me to the belief that there is still hope,
And as a madman, my hope is as mad
As the currents of a turbulent rivulet.

And we feel alive in the darkest moments
Of the distance that is measured beyond hands and fathoms
Where her insensitivity curdles the blood and burns the phantoms
Masked underneath the burning moon’s impalpable face
I feel alive - and I know, in another lifetime,
I would feel dead - but rest assured, that struggle
Will be worth the time, rather than struggling alone -
For to subsist is to struggle with, and never within lovely bones.

I am weaving loose threads, and galvanizing them
Into a ubiquitously poised hope - that as you have fluttered away
Into the abyss, I will let you flutter and fly and elude
Until you are in oblivion - until everything is left in the rubble
Of your frailty in fraying for what you want,
In finding resolve in wavering, in giving up -
I will never let this happen again,
For in between these pillars,
I may die to live, and live to die -
But never to live and vie
For a solitary fray.