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by Logan
Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #2199147
Some myths are worth pursuing
Pegasus

Remembering that first, cursed time,
I saw that horse in flight
I knew those reins could not be mine,
... I gave up at first sight

Grounded, anchored in my head,
'midst tired weathered things
Before I saw a wingspan spread,
before such feathered wings

of a gelding gamboling freely,
on a canter through the night
A bird bright, shining, steely,
on and up, and out of sight

Fields lined with fences
and gates not fit for task
Skies that blind the senses...
what questions would you ask?

What queries could you ponder
with the creature in the field?
Wings wild, free to wander,
how much should you yield?

Rejoicing at its presence
with every brief return
So hard to find its essence
at the centre of the burn

A flame you can't extinguish,
why would you even try?
A fire you relinquish,
every single time she flies

Away to greener pastures,
on a canter though the sky
Awkward... broke, we ask less,
than what our questions buy

There comes a time for stalling,
a time for letting go
Inside we're still lost, falling,
not that they would know

As life trots on regardless,
vied idols in the field
To use a bridle, harness,
such poor results we'd yield

Some creatures aren't worth caging,
containing holding back
Inside, a heart beats raging,
at the things unheld, we lack

But that's not how the race runs,
that's not the way it goes
Down one way streets, the soul guns,
spirits dragging... and it shows

Demonstrated in such darkness,
the absence of such light
Winged horses swoop around us,
scooping low and out of sight

Swinging far away from Home,
her soul escapes the fold
A rampant wild spirit roams,
with futures put on hold

On hold but not forgotten,
and never far away
To phantoms we're besotten,
up close is where they stay

Close enough, yet out of reach,
soaring through the sky
Grains of sand loose on a beach,
a fist can't hope to try

To hold such sand, contain it all,
closed up like a vise,
with flattened palms we take our falls,
a few grains as our prize

Savoured in our hourglass,
and favoured over time,
In my shell such thoughts they last,
flavoured through such rhymes

Bouncing round this shell too long,
cooped up lost inside,
with sins seen sold, and sheltered strong,
looped around... untried

Untested trialled in such space,
as echo chambers run
Memories of leather, lace,
with woolen patterns spun

A spider's yarn that holds me firm,
cocooned, froze fast with fear
One day at last, I might just learn,
things aren't as they appear

Frenetic, fought within the loom,
strong weaving holds it's sway
I may have given up to soon
... I never walked away
© Copyright 2019 Logan (stipey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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