We live in a society that is constantly moving
Pausing for no sweet breath
Of respite
When will we truly
Draw back on the reins
Of our cantering horses
And inhale the sharp scent of
Evergreen or pine
Wafting through the air on a bed of leaves
Lately I've been bolted to this
Black Stallion
Galloping away without a clue
Where I'm headed
Everyone around me is fastened
To the backs of their Chargers
Sitting ramrod straight
While they plow ahead
It's as if they're following
Some preordained map
That Destiny and
Life graciously outlined
For them
And so I must continue
Forward
Oblivious to the path before me
As well
They hasten and hurdle
Streaking through
The trodden woods beneath
My hovering mount
Littered maple leaves and twigs
Are swept aside
By hooves
As nothing more
Than mere
Paraphanelia
I'm living in a society that is constantly moving
Pausing for no sweet breath
Would I rather stop to watch
The falling leaves
Pirouette
Or be trampled to death?
Spilled Ink 