I'll write a poem for my page

While burning chamomile and sage

My room fills with a peaceful smell

And I pull off my turtle shell

I contemplate the deepest thoughts

I search for answers rarely sought

And sounds surround, a horse's trot

I think that sage may have been--

My mind clears now, just as before

I don't know the next thoughts in store

But suddenly the thought gets thinked

And I wish I could go extinct.

That final thought, my mind the source, 

Was one that I do not endorse. 

A last chance here to change your course

I'm not sure what words rhyme with Howrse...