November
Sunday 3 January 2010 photo 1/2
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Sunday 3 January 2010 photo 1/2
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With A Cry
With a cry, the stallion fell,
Screaming for mercy and forgiveness.
Yet none was shown or given to the stallion,
In the blood-stained slaghter house.
With a cry, the stallion wept for his fate,
Knowing now that some humans were truly awful.
His mistress had sold him without a second thought,
Knowing what his fate was to be, and not caring.
With a cry, the stallion struggled to his feet,
When he saw what the man was carrying.
It was a knife that was to end the stallion's life,
The knife which would kill mercilessly.
With a cry, the stallion weakly kicked out,
But the man easily dodged his kick, laughing.
Then the man advanced, with blood dripping,
And a smile on his face.
With a cry, the stallion felt the knife plunge into his neck,
Felt the point burrow deeper, looking for blood.
The stallion's knees buckled,
And he fell to the floor,
No more.
With a cry, the stallion left this world,
And went up to Heaven.
Whilst crying for his mistress,
Even though she had signed his death warrant.
With a cry, the stallion looked back at the world,
And wept for the other poor horses just like him.
For these horrendous things always happened,
And no one cared.
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