-to all the horses ruined through rolkur and soring.
Deranged, a word I’d use.
My legs incorporate refined condiments.
My hoof an assortment of metal
My dying gait, an enriched dance.
Tis he thinks?
The mad man brays.
The souls he slays.
Imprisoned in a cage of metals and oils
Not a kind petal, an embrace of coils.
My hind, a fortress of power
ney, a hall of scars.
Etched in blood, for eternity to come.
In hell, I exist, till day some.
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