I have fallen from a mighty horse
whose name is providence.
Muddied by this bitter-tasting truth,
I am the lowest I have ever been.
I have fallen far short of the mark,
and its function was only to breathe.
Where joy finds its home in the heart,
all its worth is lost on me.
I am stumbling into the blankness of the page,
what writings there can I leave?
Where the heart pens its deepest wants
no able eyes ever see.
I have fallen from a mighty horse,
the rider was all I ever longed to be,
but now I am crossing over into the night
and the night is crossing over into me.