Counter Canter

My horse died last night
And out of rage I ate him
I couldn't bring myself to bury him
So it is now my turn to carry him

Should I resuscitate him
By pressing on my heart
Or will I wake up
With a wild air and full of ardour?

Four hooves under my bed
Carry away my dreams in a gallop
The times when he was himself
And when I was still a man

Under my shoulder blades I feel
Black withers growing
I scratch the ground with my foot
Because I feel like rolling in the dirt

I would like to see as he saw
But nothing comes to me
I am carrying my bereavement and my dinner