Draft Horse In the Furnace
Most pain comes from something we've lost
like a life or a love- or a favorite dog
how to deal with the harshness of ghosts,
we plow on
we must plow on.
Will you crawl to a cave and wither away
or sit in the sun - repair wings of your faith
do you search for things to fill in the space
but you can't bring what's dead back into life
death by far owns the deepest of pits
so we tap salt and asphalt into the abyss
and plow on
we must plow on.
Each loss forms a wall of asps in the mind
snapping wildly at sanity and hobbling stride-
Will you proudly wear pain like a soldier of medal and scar,
or cover it up in bottle capped alleys
but we plow on
we must plow on.
We're just draft horses working the rocky fields of life,
the whips forever cracking in the foyer of the mind
steel backs bowing to the fierce furnace of time
but we must plow on
we must forever plow on.
Copyright © Anthony Biaanco | Year Posted 2019
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