It is the pain in my heart that has saddled onto my chest like a stallion ready to ride into battle.
Except this horse is no more and the reins are rotten and the animal itself is in pain.
It's crying.
What do you do to a beautiful animal when it's in pain?
You put it out of its misery.
Is that what I am to be?
An animal, worked so hard and rugged that the pain is so much that I cannot ride into the war of life that is yet waiting for me to vanquish,
Am I not ready for the medal I am to win for the life I have conquered and it's enemies I had slain?
Am I not ready for the news that my soldiers in battle have lost their way beside me onto a path of their own so that their bravery was no more than the shield I have given them to hide behind?
My stallion, my heart, my pain, my chest, it is rotten.
For the years I have come head first into battle, it does not matter anymore.
For the pain that resides in my chest,
My beautiful stallion, you're done.
Thank you for being the courage I needed, the strength you had offered me,
The love I needed,
And the friend I relied upon when I had none.
My soldiers,
My fleet,
My friends.
They have perished
And so has their captain.