If a good man walks

(quietly),(calmly)

steals the blinders
from a dead mans horse,
straps them to his face

without a moment's hesitation
and without a blink of thought

because he likes the feel of darkness
to his sides and likes
the tunnel vision...

If he's
tramping onto hearts and cups
crushing all his pents
and picking up the swords,

(drunk with fate's old misery
and sick with insecurity)

Then this old man
this walking man
this blind and slurring
hampered man
this man who's crushing faith beneath his heel
this man who's palm is wrapped around a hilt
this man who give his reins to an unknown God-

(this boy)
(this good, good boy)

Must walk the path
he chose when he chose
to become a dead man's horse.

04/02/2005

Posted on 04/03/2005
Copyright © 2025 Trisha De Gracia