sad poem

horses return home all evening
horses don't drink moonlight 
no creature drinks moonlight except in fairytales
fairytales are pictures of love and rain
in clouds trees houses roads etc 
but the roads are too harsh for the horses
the clouds too heavy
the houses won't let them stay anymore
the trees won't bear them anymore
the rivers are drying up fast
oceans, unlike those from pastiched aryan myths, 
churn toxin 
fairytales churn indifference 
faces in heart of vision stare stoic
faces in eyes of heartbeats turn pages with pictures of love and rain
horses turn into ghosts of horses, 
into shadows bounding through sands of time
into spaces between letters,
into silences between notes;

horses never die in fairytales
and dreams of love are never nightmares of lacklove out there.