Dark Horse Hero

The dark horse of the pack, has an almond habit of never looking back

Into the kernel of the core; and sweep its silver mane among the dusty shores

Of moonlit waves; and let the wind be, just as it behaves.

From the womb into the grave, its silver stream does run,

As wildly as the morning sun, whose elementary rays alight the path,

To confront the master of the aftermath;

Of time’s inseparable mirror, scattered fragments of the silver kept in every strand of one unceasing mane; a beauty once so hidden, it may drive the moon insane.

Of shattered habits crashing on the crest of every wave, chasing through the slivers of unceasing worlds that time forgot; the empty wishing well where stars begot the beauty of the pauper’s pot; where a gallop under earth has heard the birth of timeless wonders kept in candles of a lantern; held by spirit children who bespeak the answers of their worth;

Unspeakable trafficker of worlds;

Unknown prince of herald’s heards;

Undivided love for time forgot;

Unintended miracle of how your love was fought;

Missing just the broken chesspiece of the killer’s game;

How her silver beauty was kept without a name;

How her majesty had left the moon to blame;

With guilty treason of the traveller’s shame;

How it would always be the same;
Again & Again & again,
To drive the brightest boy insane;

Of how there is no shelter from the rain;

But this horse it has no reins;

And will drive and drive and drive this great divide into unceasing cesspools of the day.

There is no one who wears this cloak, or has authority to say;

Of how one stands beyond the mirror, and bathing in the blackest silver,

Finds these robes a little older than the stony corridors of time;

Of paradise’s pentagle, forged out of love’s lost crime,

Of how these rotten dreams were kept within the shine of moonlight streaming through the blind;

And there is forgiveness in the unintended invocation,

The horse’s pilgrimage and incantation,

Paved in purging words that have no home;

Of strength that imitates the bone;

Of impossible demands; of where a horse may find its stand;

If only to admit that it may never be, still, until it rides into eternity.