upon wanting something other than the stable

I hear the horses in my mind, of my darkened dreams now
seen, the promised land, their manes a-shake, their
Hoofs heavy with intended flee, eyes glimmering as mine
reminisce behind and towards the stable, where He rests
and stalls and watches on; 
Now onward, 
The North ahead with promised shift from parentage,
ideal Man, Setting Sun escaping, veering West away with
fortitude from the East,
where the failures and tribulations seem scented in the
ashed crimson pedals of the South from which I fled and
where He stays. 
In vain of Sleep, Hoped intention, the Desired change,
lacked of conviction,
The horses of Mind plunge in heavy sop, the sapping
lapping barrelled fumes, fermentation; 
I clutch my heart and dare to blink as my pulse
bears grief and syncopated ache and longing for my
fallen rider,
Once trusting, resting firm against my swaggered chest
now
Drowning in the swamps I dared cross and through the
twilight, 
As ahead and through visage of their tossing manes, the
velocity to their step, the lonely trudge, days with every
press,
I see not North but horses leading towards the stable I
had left behind.