Bleeding Horse

The horse lay bleeding in Camden,
Its rider was a target of a hate campaign,
The people in the pub watched in horror
As it writhed in unbearable pain,
The rider was killed instantly,
Too bad the horse didn’t follow,
Instead, it lies on the ground,
Its own blood it was forced to swallow,
The killer walked over to the horse,
He stared into its eyes,
Even then the horse remained defiant,
But the truth it never realised,
The rider and the killer were friends once,
Each others’ best men,
Somewhere in the sinews of time, they lost each other,
No one knows exactly when,
The rider betrayed the killer,
Did the dirt with his wife,
This would be the nail in the coffin
Of the rider’s life,
The killer looked into the horses eyes again,
It was like the rider lived still,
He picked up his gun and fired again,
Against the people in the pubs will,
The dead horse lay bleeding on the ground,
Its rider beside it, also dead,
The killer’s sole tear mixed with their blood,
The people in the pub didn’t know why it had been shed…

The didn’t even have sympathy for the rider…
They knew he was a victim of his own mistake…
They felt sorry for the innocent horse…
Even though the horse bared its soul for the rider to take…
They had become two parts of a whole…
Two pieces to a single entity…
One couldn’t live without the other…
So a duel death was always the harsh reality…