To All The Cold Hearts Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

And there, proudly
Yielding nothing but the cold winter chill
The vapid snow dissipating upon their skin,
Someday, they’ll know our pain
They seem to wield hearts
Like the perils of the wilderness
Where were you in the time of heaven and acquittal?
The salt of their skin is offensive,
And their breaths are insidious
Their malevolence can be seen
With each heavy step
On the barren terrain, where we all lay silently
No sound is made,
No hope is exhumed like bodies along the streets,
Why are they like this?
Are they human?
I vie, alone perhaps
In my room of narrow stairs and traps
They have snared each and every dream,
And fed them to the lions,
To the tigers,
To the monstrosities –
I am left with nothing
And that is why I disdain them,
For they do not know how to be human,
They do not know that the macabre
Is instilled among their scraped veins,
One day, I promise you this
I will resurface, unscathed
Or perhaps, embellished with scars
And there, with a diminutive hope,
I will spread love like wildfire,
Among a single body
And all of you cold-hearted fools
Who know nothing about permitting a verve
In the demise of one maudlin,
Will be extinguished
The same way you quenched
The fire that I used to have –
Because sometimes, even the most immaculate
Of intentions portray
A dire need of redemption.