Contemplations

The end of the forest is in sight,
Equestria is laid plain;
We're allowed to see into the moonlight once again.
Leaving behind the thick thistle of asphyxiating abhorrence,
The hope of that place seems perpetually inane.

She's on my back now,
And I can no longer feel any lingering pain.
At least her body seems whole once again.
Whether she's sane however,
I cannot see;
The only troubling thing about her to me.

The noticeable relief of ones exit from that place,
It's enough to set a smile upon my face.
However I feel that it may not be in good taste...
I feel myself quicken with haste;
With her unconscious, I cannot afford a lumbering pace.

Still can't risk a magical transport,
For fear of reactionary retort.
The requirements of magic's thought,
Is not one I'm confident she can currently support.
Heh, at least this can all fit into my schedule as: 'unforeseen sport'.

I feel her breathing softly against my pelt;
Warmth escapes and tickles my hairs,
The gentle rubbing of a silky felt.
A kneading; content touch,
One that is subject to trust;
Therefore is not unwanted as such.

The town is deserted,
No surprises there.
Apart from my company;
With the chilling cold air.
Yet... all is not as it seems,
The moon bathes the land in it's pale beams;
Setting alight the surroundings with a glint.
Totally lacking of heat;
It's sheen still provides a comforting gleam.

Both the lamps and the moonlight easily allow my sight;
It still baffles me as to why ponies sleep at night...
Sharp hoofsteps sound my way;
I can see the library in the distance,
He forgot the lamps again,
Much to my dismay...

He probably went off to take a nap;
At the moment I don't think I can blame him for that...
Today has certainly been trying;
Tomorrow I think, I shall have a lie-in.
But first, this mare still needs a bed in which to sleep,
After all that fuss, I'm not going to leave her on the floor, in a heap...

I don't even need magic to light my way,
Ponies are trusting; they leave the doors open,
So that ponies may come and go as they may.
It's the convention of course;
A thief needs lust or need to drive his course;
In Equestria, there is no such source.

I gently light the lamps in the ceiling,
Don't want to be tripping;
I doubt our 'guest' would appreciate such a thing.
This place has always been too large for me;
Not that I'm complaining,
It's just that, now one more has a use, it's nice to see...

The door's hinges are well oiled,
So I wont be waking up Spike,
Fortunately it was on my checklist last night.
Those Dragons' Dreams leaves him a light sleeper;
When a dragon reaches adolescence, their instincts call to them;
Superficiality pulls them deeper;
It saddens me then when they get worse, he refuses to hold me nearer.
But it's that time of his life;
He'll pull through his strife of course.

Lighting the small fire in the bedroom for a gentle light; a serene night,
With it's blanketing warmth of not just heat...
I settle her down nicely;
Tuck her up tightly.
Her face is still utterly content;
A night well spent...