The course has been plotted
The horse taken from the barn
The rider mounted
The journey begins
Over sunlit hills
And down into dark valleys
Wading through streams of salt tears
Fallen from love sick hearts
And broken dreams
The strain of struggle
And on the horse and rider plunge
Whipped by branches
Side swiped by fate
Cheered on occasionally by love
Reaching for trophies
Triumphant
Then tired
Then sore, perhaps lame
When the horse is stumbling
The rider unseated
Ambition melts and fades away
Quiet of home beckons
Takes them in
Enough of the world
Peace is the last cup they’ll win