Long poem: Unbridled Spirit

In this mighty grey,
She trails behind.
Behind her kin,
Her friends,
Behind the ones.
Trying to be better.

It is such a slow progress
Once, then twice and then some,
Breaking spirits as they come.
What will you do?

Unchained, she limps on;
Scrapping wounds,
Sweating blood.
Trailing behind,
‘Loser’ is the term
With which she is defined.

Yet, she is unbreakable,
No, let me clarify,
She is broken
With golden inlays.
Unbreakable as the pieces lay,
Scattered to be reclaimed.
Her soul retains
It’s hearth at its very core;
She remains
Unbridled.

Are you there
Listening?
Or maybe trailing
To watch
Her, succumb?

No, they are unbreakable.
Among all gists of things,
They realize, that like the
Fire and water, and the spaces
In between,
They remain
The unbridled spirit;
Especially in the spaces
That the dark claims.

They are
Unbreakable.

Poet’s note: Have you ever felt that you were trailing behind? Have you ever dealt with depression that wrecks you? If you’re still breathing, if you’re still trying, whether it is for you or for someone else, to me, you are unbreakable, and just damn inspiring. Good afternoon!

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