Black horse

A huge black stallion waits,

The white of eyes showing,

Frothing at the mouth,

He paws at the ground.

A smooth sleak body quickly bounds away at the deafening sound of a
gunshot.

He is being hunted.

Earth is flying as the horse runs in a frenzy,

Hooves barely touch the ground as he gallops away,

He opens his mouth,

A shrill piercing whistle escapes,

A cry for help,

A cry of anger.

He listens intently,

His body glistening with sweat.

His heart hammering in his ribcage.

They have gone.

The stallion looks up,

The sun is rising.

As the mysterious horse thunders of into the distance,

I know now,

Why he is called Satan.