When the champion falls from his noble steed
And lays vanquished upon the ground
Struggling with the same mortality we all bear
Trying to rise under the weight of the expectations
Continually laid upon his shoulders by those
Bestowing their favor and placing their hope
On his ability to continue to enter the arena
While others merely enjoy the show that he puts on
Again and again, rising to meet each new challenger
Until that fatal day when he lays with his face in the earth
And he finds that those who had cheered him
Would rather see him die upon his white horse,
Than see him fall to the ground disappointing their hopes
To continue to exhibit the illusion of strength
Even when that illusion covers a gaping wound
And as the cheering crowds depart the coliseum in silence
Mourning not his injuries but their own disappointment
Leaving only the critics who look down with disapproving stares
As the one once lifted up as the hero becomes the outcast
And the white rider becomes quickly forgotten and ignored
His life’s blood sacrificed to quench the desire of the masses
Now crippled, he is quickly replaced by another who takes up the banner
When yesterday’s heroes fall from grace
We turn away in fear, for if those who we placed little lower than gods
With all their strength and mental resolve and ability
If they can know the sting on failure and weakness of wounds
Then what hope do we mere mortals have
Neil White, 2014
When The White Rider Falls
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