Vie Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

There is a bandwagon,
A caravan, a vassalage
Waiting for me. They have prepared
A banquet not of thieves, not of fools
But of refined women and virtuous men.
Vie - there is a measure beyond the abyss
And perhaps, there, a garden of luminescence
Grows in surfeit.
Vie - the wind blusters.
I am well-esteemed, and I shall keep this composure
As I flourish like the light that wades
Around the halls.
Vie - all hope is lost.
Vie - do not shiver in the winter frost.
Vie - and maybe, in another hazy dream
Or a reality with lucid intervals,
There’s someone waiting.
So, vie.