The Curse of Eternal FreedomA Poem by A JacksonOne valiant horse, his mane so fair Roaming the lands he is free The Stallion of the Savannah. His hoofprints sink into the sand As he wanders the days And dreams of the nights That he can run with another so grand. Eternal freedom makes one dwell on All the things that could have been The Stallion of the Savannah. Moonlight creeping across the earth Winter breeze blows a chill The plains are empty This is his freedom, an eternal curse. © 2014 A Jackson |
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Added on March 3, 2014 Last Updated on March 3, 2014 AuthorA JacksonBirmingham, United KingdomAboutBorn and raised in Birmingham, Britain’s second city, I’m a real city girl through and through. As an account manager for a marketing agency, I have mainly focused my professional writing .. more..Writing
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