Night Ride
I urge you foward, Without the use of hands, You do as I bid, You take my command, Taking fences with ease, Almost as if in flight, Swiftly the ground falls away, As we eat up miles and night. Fleeing my wild demons, Of my own making, Dark places in my mind, From which I am racing. Carry me, my best friend, My spirited Grey Ghost, I may think not to return, Going where living is at it's most. Written November 18th, 2001 © on Nov 17 2001 03:53 PM PST, Phyllis Thompson 18 • 0 • 10
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"I urge you foward, ..."