Got to admit the pony wasn’t small for the fight,
The pants got stuck in the hooves and it wasn’t too tight,
Riding sky high it was the moment for nothing to loose,
Concealing in the shade I was running behind my muse,
High and rise bending the back to the last and to the finish,
Race was just the beginning of the journey, that left the pony astonished,
TO crave for the miles and to let them be,
There was a never ending spirit, was let free,
Miles to cover under the heavy notion of the rest,
Instead of covering the ground movement in to a test,
Head up high in resting in the stars laying awake the grave,
The moment reminded of the patience and the everlasting crave,
To break dawn into million pieces and to resolve the one sitting on the top,
Carrying the shoulders with the fragments to that last stop,
There was a lost admiration of the thoughts of the covered ground,
Symphony and its surreal surrender of that beautiful sound.
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