A poem about the journey of sobriety

In a quiet town, a rider roamed, Horses by his side, each one a home. With every mount, a vow he'd make, But from their backs, he'd often shake. First was Thunder, a steed so wild, Promised days of youth beguiled. He gripped the reins, eyes open wide, Yet hit the ground, his spirit tried. Came next a mare, they called her Grace, A slower pace, a gentler face. He stayed aboard for months or so, But yet again, he found his low. Storm was next, both fierce and free, A mirror to his failed decree. He held on tight, through tears and ache, Still found himself, a soul at stake. Many horses passed through time, Each a mountain he'd try to climb. His scars were maps of lessons learned, For each new dawn, his hope returned. In twilight years, came his Sage, A horse so calm, befitting age. They moved as one, through sun and mist, A partnership too strong to resist. No longer did he dread the fall, For Sage and he had conquered all. Through joys and sorrows, thick and thin, A ride that ended where it'd begin. With Sage, he faced his final days, Content and thankful, in a humble haze. A life of lessons, loves and trials, Made sweeter yet, by lasting miles.