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Some shackle their nightmares

I set freedom to my steeds

Shoeing them with light iron

Granting higher scale and faster speed  

 

In the darkness of their hour

These roof top guardians stand their watch

Awaiting sounds of falling dreams

Revisiting what was lost 

 

In flight– they search for traces-

And remnants of lost souls

Left along the gutters edge

Of a thousand cities paved in gold  

 

Recording the names and faces

Those marked as Satan’s dead

My mares note each birthmark

And dreams they nightly dread

 

By morning my steeds returning

With lost hope of countless years

Filling my morning cup

With faces crying unheard tears 

 

This quill bleeds the vessel

Writing each name upon a list

Of daily prayers recited

For all these weary quests 

 

My scrolled task in order

Prayers for nameless hearts unfed

I thank my dark night horses

And send them to their bed

 

I thank my dark night horses

And send them to their bed

 

 

bkmackenzie

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