Scarlet.
It flows from the torn body left to rot.
It was once full of life and ran with grace,
But the life has left her.
No more shall she frolic in the meadow;
No more shall she hunt for rabbits on the moor.
She is gone.
Run to death by blood thirsty hounds.
Her ginger coat streaked with blood.
Laughing snobs atop beaten horses.
She ran until her legs could no longer hold her.
Ripped to shreds by dogs,
Surrounded by terrified horses.
There is no honor in murder,
For fox sake enforce and keep the ban!
By Annika Williams, do not repost without permission by me. Thanks!❤
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
If They Had A Voice...
ПоэзияJust some poems and the occasional short story about animals
