Dead Horse

The dead horse is twitching, grab me a stick.  The famous last words of a heretic. 

Lovely honey bee, let that pride drip. Salty, bitter sweet, still perfect.  I'll take the blame, no one else will.  Dead horse is twitching, going in for the kill.  Lovely genocide, broken heart graves.  Ugly, terrified, always yours still. 

The dead horse is twitching, grab me a stick.  Famous last words of a derelict.

Why must you be so cold and merciless?  No one prepared me for this metamorphosis.  Lovely butterfly stings like a bee.  How can something so fragile be so perilous? 

She leads me to water but I refuse to take a drink.  Dead horse walking, let's call it instinct.  Lovely weather, all around me.  Maybe, I'm wounded.  Maybe, I'm sick.  Like a bandaid, rip me off quick.

Dead horse is twitching, I'll hand you a stick.

Lovely dilemma, this must be.  To listen to your instinct or to trust me.  Maybe, someday, we can go back to the start.  Crazy and lovely, those beginning days are. Admit it, I'm reaching and you're just settling.

Here's a stick, the dead horse is trembling.

Once upon a time in a world far away, dead horses were left alone; left alone to decay.  Lovely wide berth is unfairly in the air tonight.

Put down that stick and bring the dead horse back to life.