Poor Tiger, Mad Lover Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

A tiger was sent into an abeyance.
His roars are frail and feeble.
What good is a tiger
Without his tremendous roar?
A nuisance that flourishes and shakes
The forests?

You have left this tiger
Cold and desolate
Under the brambly, prickly bushes
As the calamitous ripples
Of desertion and betrayal
Loom within your thresholds.
I’ve had the courage to
Roar for you -

And now you talk?

You mad lover.
Why only now,
That I am scathed and incapable?
I’ve not a single strength
To lunge at puny hostiles.
And now you talk?
And now you talk?

I don’t even know
What kind of treachery
Lurks within your vicinity -

Is it rue?
Is it disdain?
A mad plot of stifling
This tiger again?

I am losing the flambeau
In the singeing night’s
Far-fetched dream.
Spare me,
I have blundered
For you too long.

So now, you talk?
A chauvinistic trickster.
Now you talk?

Poor tiger, poor tiger.
Mad, crazed lover.