Hold Your Hankering Horses – Dead Deer

Hold Your Hankering Horses

The desire was too much to contain. Zoom in as everything else around that troublesome target loses focus, becomes fuzzy, indistinct and eventually disappears. Ceases to be. Hence it is that all around is torn down, laid to waste, gone to waste. Decaying or destroyed, it is all the same. A full-on desperate charge toward this fatal, foolish whim.

Inside, though, it is uncontrollable, unstoppable. Nothing, but nothing, matters. Everything and everyone can go to hell, and do.


Turning the corner, a corner like any other, out on the country path and suddenly face to face with it. Let us get on thing straight from the off; horses are big. This one had steam in its nostrils and blood in its mane. And it was angry. The shimmering, rock hard muscles rippled and strained as it reared and snarled.


“What did you do to contribute? To help?”

Can you respond? What did you do? Drink and complain? Rant and read? Did it help? Did any of it help? The distant sun revolves softly and gently sinks. You are left in the dark of the dusk and the silence of your soul. You failed. You know you have failed and all that is left is to stare at that realisation of who and what you are, amongst the bleak ruins of a longing that is long-lost. You did not make it, you see now, you did not hold back yet neither did you succeed.

A waste. What an all encompassing waste. Too much, too late.


Today I wrote from 13:46 to 13:56. I was prompted by an idea here. My other writings here. All my prompted writing here, and my tweets here