Riding the White Horse

The blood will run
Upon the line
Beneath a sallow skin
Laced with the low
Of ill design
And hope of high therein
The prison is made
With its lie
For transient esprit
Comes bright thought
And golden eye
Upon a warm forgiving sea
Thence the fall and
Sorrowed ire
A self struck livid cell
The blood runs cold
The soul afire
‘neath a sick unbidden spell
Doomed to repeat
Day upon day
’till maybe the day will come
The pale end of it all
A price to pay
Where the light of a life is undone


4 thoughts on “Riding the White Horse

  1. I really relate to this poem. After my mother got into a terrible state after multiple strokes I got addicted to cocaine using 22 hours a day. I was bulimic as well and the doctors said every time I made myself sick on that quantity of cocaine which I did 3 times a day I could have a fatal heart attack. But I thought I wanted to die and even enjoyed destroying myself. Just as this poem says I was doomed to repeat day after day and was given 3 months to live. My friends said to me “you used to be so pretty, now you are grey and the light has gone from your eyes. But my family forced me into treatment and that enforced abstinence made me realise I wanted to live. I was 11 years clean at the beginning of this year.

    Liked by 1 person

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