My Cure

The wrenching pain

Dulling to a steady stream of agony

My passion aching

The life of excuses and compromises

Only easing the agony into a temporary coma

My aching soul screams for the pain to leave 

or consume me

Torn by the wing longing to ride upon the graceful back of a horse,

knowing that they are the cure

to the steady poison rushing through my veins

My soul has wings 

when I ride, I fly

It is my escape from memories, from life

from my constant agony.

The only cure.

The End

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