My two wild horses,
Blackest of black; whitest of white.
How far you run into the river stream -
Each going your own way, yet so much the same

My white stallion,
Gentle eyes beneath a proud mane
Of pure intentions doomed to fail;
Revealing all to hide everything.

My black mare,
So fiercely you glance at the world
Ready to tear it asunder as it had you.
Covered in your dark, coarse armour

Beautiful, untamed beasts
Fighting to be untouched while
Marked by hands who would waste you;
Eager to wash all their stains away.
Breathtaking as you move
Farther from the river bank.
You pause for a moment to glance back
Before you plot your course to the horizon
Forever to disappear from sight.