Living on the hills
But ruling silently.
Watching his kingdom
Survive beneath his hooves.
No crown of gold
Lies upon his head.
Or cloth around his shoulder
For he is a different royal.
Majestic, proud, beautiful
Are all that describe him.
But none are ever used
For his talents are wasted.
He rises above us
But is made to look down
And worship what he sees.
Made to move on command.
How he would long
To run away to the forests.
His home. His castle.
And live like he should.
And to melt away
In the mist of eve
And live like an emperor
Instead of a mount.
