The Ride

As I go, advancing through the night,
I will gallop, I will trot, I will ride,
Jumping up, like a baby bird, attempting flight,
Leaping over rocks and broken trees on their side,

The grounds, black, and the heavens, ablaze,
The war above raging with an inner fire,
My heart too fast a rhythm, my feet, crazed,
The evil behind be, pushing me higher,

The buring forest a sight to see,
I fear the thing that all things dread,
But with the fire almost catching me,
And the thing behind me that wants my head,

My efforts never good enough,
No time to say I have it hard.

– August