That Last Horse Ride

by April 7, 2017 0 comments

Craving the color white,
The lust for grains of paradise,
The once welcome guests
You chose to entertain,
Become as intruders,
As violators who leave a stain,
On your health, on your soul,
On your sensibilities, they take their toll,
Drying up your emotions,
A desiccation of what you were,
A cracking apart,
Like cement without being cured,
Splitting, shifting
All the pretty colors you enjoyed,
Now all merged
Into achromatic totality,
The bright white envoy
Paired with red,
Into blackness has led,
The craving has ceased
Be at peace.

editors note:

Rest through removal; of color, of breath, of… – mh clay

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