The insubordinate

He lived beyond forgiveness and blame

Caulked elsewhere with a proper oblivion

A rigorist thinker, at peace with his soul 

and often a vox populi philippian.

He wrapped his part of the shadow on the fringes of the lights

He smoothes the emotion, the fever, and his rancor, 

On the plinth of evil, in fervent prayers

Casting out from the mind the affection of his heart.

The recurring dreams and fleeting thoughts,

The phantasms mired in the cruel fate

The trial of life and his reluctant moods,

Plunged him, little by little, into an unreal world.

Instead of being a soldier he deserted 

He preferred the rose removing the chalice 

Fleeing wife and child to the cry of pain

But proud to be with God sharing his torment.