Blow wild out into my path of time,

Of rhymed resistance to mild senses,

Rush and swirl to abstract abandonment,

Around and encased from a sterile world,

As I stand awaiting my ambuscade.

 

Reject what can only be failed inculcation,

Admonished to a pointless exhausted existence,

Now I rally and cry to battle,

Body littered with ageing contusions,

So run, run, through those wild winds of winter.

 

Now I am running with face lashed to leather,

Pounded by unkind inclement weather,

But free, yes freedom to race on my way,

Freed of encaged thinking to just waylay,

Rebooted to radicalise this wasting day.

 

I am an actor, a soldier,

A writer to yet be named,

A freedom fighter for all too tame,

Run with me now or forever be shamed,

Do not wait for fate to devour your wanting pain.

 

I am running through the wild winds,

Running on forever,

Running past those black dog beasts,

That sing the songs of anxiety and fear,

Running, running, to a world not here.