Destructive, sorry.

White Horses

I want to go to the place,
Where the white horses frolic.
I’ll be daring, I won’t run from them.
From their approaching grasp.

The shivers shake and rattle my knees,
Gripping the saddle let me ride along amongst you.
Hovering here, I’m facing your thunderous stampede,
It comes to me, its fear that drives you to escape the storm. To flee.

Goosebumps and convulsions,
From the whipping wind so cold.
It’s a love affair, this scene,
Belonging to one world, yearning for one that’s immortal.

The persistent howls,
Become a symphony in my ears.
Bass and soprano lashing out and around,
Taking turns to roar the quarrels of past and present and future years

Bowing my head in submission,
I peek and covet a moment to marvel.
There’s a rainbow at my bluing toes,
Reds, greens, amber's too, shine like the enamel on carousel.

The sea is wetter version of the sky.
The horses up there are too dark and too oppressive,
Their dark schemes prove unsettling as they plummet down.
Today I witness the power and passion of the Earth’s fickle moats.

At last, in the torrents;
The stallions of both raging herds claim to set me free.
My friends and family, no harm was meant,
I just want the chance, a chance to be a ghost, here, the old me.