A poem #85 – Mighty horse

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.

JP Collins

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