The Unbridled

**The Unbridled** They pounded the ground On their dark as death mounts, Their howls as wild As a storm nettled sea, And the air was sucked bare Of all soft and All kind and all Comforting sounds; Not a breath Not a beat, Not a prayer, Not a whistle, Against the hoof pummelling grind And the whip thwack! on the bristle As down they went, Down they went, And I with my steed Foolhardy and young And half crazed and naïve, Waited and waited To join their stampede. It wasn’t as strangers They swept down that hill, I’d toyed with the Unbridled before And deep down I desired nothing more Than to toy with them again still. I envied their freedom, The free reign of their rage, It was the Unbridled starkness Of their wild galloping *passion* I craved! Oh, forgive me, I pray! I'd heard tales of their weakness, Legends of their own woe, Myths that perhaps once had recklessly Opened my heart, For long ago, I'll admit it, I'd been a Romantic With my sights set on Avenging my slights Which I believed Had a right To be mended and conquered, Then *wiped* From existence. Was it conceit? Was it indulgence? To believe this world owed me submission An eye for an eye and a Blaze for a blaze, The arrogant demand for dues to be given And debts to be paid, As dumb-eyed Dough-headed Pig-martyred... But brave, I waited in stoical silence To flesh out the unbridled ranks Of their advancing Campaign. Perhaps I thought I was immortal Perhaps I thought that I deserved More, But as I ready-steadied Nerves for battle, Stirrups primed And saddle mounted high As I, Launched my steed And mewled the mewl Of the bloodthirsty cry I did not expect my action To prove... *Fatal!* Oh do not look me in the eye, Do not tell me what a fool I've been! Do you not think that Each time I gallop by the by I do not think of all the fates I threw away, Of all the futures lost That might have been? But who here would not indulge the urge If chance was given, To shrug off this heaving weight That is the saddle laden, Bridled constraint Of time and space That seeks to pull us down To mar our dreams Combined with taint of Crabs, who would prefer to see Us dressed in rags Than steeped in sequinned robes That mark us out As those Who chose to clothe ourselves In Unbridled freedom? Who here? I ask, For though as a ghost I am now cursed To roam the quiet vista Of clay sepia streets Where once I played, And many a times I might have wept And often grieved, I cannot regret That for just one moment In the hands Of time's almighty clock, I chose to set My wild tongue free, And as I did, Though maybe it was wrong, It was with one last breath Of joy, The Unbridled Found a home in me. So, hush, For when they next come, To pound the ground On death-dark mounts With howls as wild As storm-whipped sea, Though yes, To heed their cry Might bleed you dry, And you might pay the price, And you might wish you’d thought twice, But let it be known, No matter how much You think your Boiled rage Be best bottled up And self-contained, I’ve a confession to make That might make your Mind change, A secret: I unbridled my rage, And though as a result Consequences were paid, Guess what? *I loved it!*

J Morrey Grace
30th July 2018