The dawn brings with it
the thundering of hooves.
Flashing eyes of defiance,
nostrils flared,
the powerful steed of truth
races across the vista
reclaiming its territory.

A lone rider sits astride
holding aloft the sword of veracity.
Gleaming blinding rays of reclamation,
it slashes justly and swiftly
dissecting the enemy effrontery.

A stain of debauchery forms a carpet,
on which the master of deceit
lies in solitary final isolation.
The carpet disintegrates
and is taken by the wind
thus cleansing the land.

Sleek coat of victory the steed now wears
as it paws the once desecrated earth
seeking any lurking shadow of its nemesis.
A mirage of promise dissipates
as yesterday dissolves in the morning mist.

The lone rider shakes loose her hair,
and drops the dripping sword.
Dismounting, with reins in hand
she walks towards the new sun.

Pausing, she drinks from the well of reclamation
and bathes in a waterfall of reality's Eucharist
Soul now purified, she pauses to rest
under the branches of tomorrows.

Nibbling at grasses of congruence,
the powerful steed,
ever watchful of his master,
grazes nearby,
in its field of honor reclaimed,
savoring the sweet illusive flavor of verity.

 © Marcia Miller-Twiford