flight of the last pegasus

this piece took me a lot longer than it usually takes me to write. It had been swirling in the primordial soup of contemplation for weeks (months, now) and every time I’d tried to jot something down, I would end up trashing it and starting from scratch. So, for the umpteenth try, here I go, and I hope it finally does the effort justice:

gallop,
gallop,
stay your wings,
feathers folded, tucked and stored;
faster, faster, gather speed,
into this run your heart is poured.

racket, rumpus, clamorous din,
glory-hunters preach your sin;
silence is but all you hear,
a heartbeat conceals overt fear.

the forest clears into a plains,
now seen, their heckles scream disdains;
shots fired, shots fired! whizzing by,
stead your eyes upon the sky.

give chase still, these wretched beasts,
to make your flesh a morbid feast;
and flay the skin upon your bones,
then take that too, for ivory thrones.

thus makes you pray unuttered words,
come images of dying herds;
not stallion, colt, or mare was spared,
those lives, those hearts, those souls were bared.

with this thought strength rises anew,
empowers blood, strengthens sinew;
so faster,
faster,
faster still,
until your grit is at last will,
and body’s form behest mind’s screams,
though break apart it at its seams.

a reverie now takes its hold,
make timid equine souls be bold;
that angels’ wings may come unfold,
and speak of destinies untold;
which harsh winds grasp but cannot hold,
as released free to sunset gold,
so night may come at hours untold,
and bring within a deathly cold.

before a blink has taken place,
and solace spelled upon your face;
comes gravity to pull you down,
reality back in its place.

but steady,
steady,
steady beat,
this breeze will carry one last feat;
cross a ravine, down rolling hills,
the mob gives chase still for its thrills.

but how could they keep up this chase?
of last affronts and lost efface?
as shadows cast farther from you,
the ground takes on a lifeless hue.

for all the green and yellow grass,
is tasteless now, and seems so crass;
in moments all that’s left is blue,
beyond and yonder, clear and true.

so weightless this corporeal form,
that keeps through twilight ‘ternal warm,
and long is lost the lust to feed,
desire sustains the lonely steed.

across the ocean’s mirrored waves,
cast shadows slight, like sneaking knaves;
past when dusk ends, and twilight sleeps,
when moon and stars do play for keeps.

infernal hours thence pass by,
despondence makes a shrill-pitched neigh;
of heart, of soul, of mind is won,
symbolised by an orange dawn.

not unlike ballads ill-rehearsed,
where takes you, erst, my pegasus?
bid spoken fallacies unknown,
please make this life, this love, your own.


* * * * *

but tricksy, all these affairs are,
your mind has carried you too far,
moreso than body ever could, a soiled, deformed and sullied mar;
a blazing light of white and red,
has filled your eyes, and then your head,
before your flight had taken place, that meadow was to be your bed.

in actuality, a twist!, a sordid, somber, fleeting lie, that escape was never to be, for all earthly things come to die;
oh dear, my pegasus, how wrong, this world has treated you – don’t cry – but rest now all your heavy heart, and bid this cold, cruel being goodbye.