Through the door of the dark stable
Peeked a sick horse
At healthier ones grazing
And playing in the wetland
He could only stumble
As he tossed his head in vigour
At uncaring horses
Engaged in their own pursuit
He gazed at the distant rubble
Wishing for strength
So that he could fly with the wind
Have his fill of the wet grass
And hover impatiently in his stable
For the next dawn
I dont leave a lot of comments on lots of blogs each week but i felt i had to here. Do you require many drafts to make a post?