Prison of Leather
I can taste the metal
Upon my tongue, and in
My velvet gums.
Its bitter tinge stings the senses
Yet dulls them.
I feel...compelled,
Compelled to obey, yet I do not want to.
He tugs at the rope and the metal
Cuts me, my lips bleed red,
And spot the earth with dots of scarlet
Upon the grass.
He tugs harder as the bar sinks further
into my gums, stretching them,
Contorting them,
Aggravating me,
Yet I am compelled.
I imagine myself pulling the
Wretched thing off, but it
has merged with my long head,
And I,
I lack the ability
To remove my torment, the bridle.
He runs me until my
Lungs sear with crimson heat,
A dripple of blood rolls down
My nose, out of my flaring nostrils,
And into my mouth,
Where I taste the bitterness and burning salt
Of my own life.
A single tear rolls down from my
Eye, but it disappears unnoticed into
My coarse hair,
The last tear of a humanity fading.
I once was a man,
But now I am beaten and whipped,
His leather boots bruise my flanks,
His thighs bruise my ribs.
All perceptions of the past are gone.
Why does he torment me so?
I am him, he is me,
I am just covered in sorrel hair.
Yet, his vicious gaze
Ever looks down upon me.
Maybe if he knew I once was human,
He could find some compassion in his...
I cannot tell him,
All human speech evades me,
All letters are gone,
I am a horse.
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