Equuleus,
Little horse of light,
Imaginings have spilled
From the sky an eerie
Whisper of a heart
Forlorn and withered cold.
Easily bent and silenced
Spent neighs echo,
Mellow and muted,
Like copper on the wind.
Sad implosions have left
An empty and frail
Thin horse standing
Motionless in infinity.
Your stillness
Is that of mere
Stars remote and candid,
Absent and distant,
Full of sunken sorrow on
Pale skin stretched
Over points of bare bones.
Your body is nothing...
Disappearing and folding,
You are a mystic illusion,
A constellation:
Emaciated tendrils of
Thoughts hanging breath,
Faded and dying,
Midnight lights render
Memories swallowed by
A black hole
Of a despair shivering
Dread in dreams.

Equuleus,
Little horse of light,
In the infinite frigid
Stretch of of space,
My kindred stars,
Know my heart!
That with subsistence
And sustenance
Of calculated cognizant
Vestiges of time,
The glow of dreams,
Unfaltering and ubiquitous
Can be pursued,
Glistening beyond
The event horizon and
Pull of gravity!
You needn't a bright
Star to your name!
With hopeful trots alone
Toward enduring vicissitudes,
Even a constellation
So small and dim,
Can be a celestial
Rumbling majesty
Flying and galloping,
A divine horse reborn:
Racing grandly across,
The horizon with Pegasus,
Stardust pouring forth
From a body bound in
Radiant white beams
Seen from light years away!
You will rise
In passionate fervor!
You will set
In glittering glory!
You will be a force
None can tame,
Not even the
Northern night sky,
A mighty mansion
Of stars twinkling in
Elegance and transience
Until the dawn!
You will be the Heavenly
Spectra for all of
Earth below to behold!