lo! how these mighty steeds stagger and stumble,
their clumsy hooves smacking the cement, clip-clop,
their direction changing with each step, flip-flop,
violently clashing and collapsing in a tumble.
lo! how their senses falter and fumble,
though we praised them to be the best of the best, tip-top,
yet their faculties fall from them like their sweat, drip-drop,
and now our trust in them has crumbled.
if only we had chosen a beast other than the horse
to guide our chariot, something less wild,
something less narrow-minded and coarse,
something a bit more compassionate and mild.
or perhaps we could simply apply more force
to the reins we’ve claimed to hold all the while.