(Not) Alone…

(originally posted on August 21, 2012)

Stallion: Do You know Mistress,when You read something and it feels
like You are the one who wrote it, so like Yourself that You can
smell Your soul in there ?

Mistress: (smiling) Yes love,I think I do.


Mistress: Tell me about it honey.

Stallion: Looking into Your eyes remind me of everything Mistress..
(smiling)..My whole life just passes in front of me like a flash,and
I then feel so happy,and grateful,that I finally found You.

Mistress: (just smiling)

Stallion: It is a poem Mistress,a poem for an american writer called
Edgar Allan Poe..The first time I read it,I found myself both smiling
and shedding tears! It is so beautiful Mistress,and so deep

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
Edgar Allan Poe

For every person reading this poem,feeling it describes him perfectly,
for every fellow traveller,this is for you.

Her Wild Stallion

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