Black Mustang (Pt.5 Of The Jungleuphoria Mini-Series) Poem by Axley Blaze

The line of horses, fur glistening and white
One dark one runs ahead, lost in its plight
She said; 'it gallops and bucks, it's wild and free—'
She said; 'that black horse isn't captive, '
Then, she said that the black horse was me.

Wild One—
Her samba in the wind
Wild One—
Her one-person revolution, it begins
Free and uninhibited, she refuses to be tamed
She doesn't care about normalcy
She's the one we cannot name
Wild One—
She runs uninhibited; she's free
Wild One—
She said that horse was me.

I laid on my bed; I searched for an answer.
—Why her addressing of my nature
Caused an internal natural disaster
Within my mind, I lost it; I went manic
I paced the room; I took some pills
I saw my shrink
In a fevered panic

Those words and what they meant;
I'd been so close to death
I'd almost agreed to do it
I prepared for my final breaths.

Just as I'd been on the verge of conforming
She stopped by my suite that day
Those words sent me spiraling
Healthy—was slowed to pause
Stable—was put on delay

Or perhaps they sent me back,
To where I was before
Mentally and in my mind;
A Wild One for sure.

The Black Mustang,
The freedom ringer
The anti-hero
The anarchy singer!

Yes, one day can change your world
One moment can shape your life
Five words can create a sentence
Causing your head mania, so rife

And, perhaps that was the solution.
I needed her that day
I needed one soul to speak those words:
'This is you. Please stay this way.'

© copyright 2017-2024 Black Mustang (Pt.5 of the Jungleuphoria Mini-Series) Nicole D'Settēmi