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.