They adorn them with shiny buckles and leather, colorful fabrics and patterns, steel bits and shoes and tie downs to control their every move, demanding them to move gracefully on unnatural ground for spectators eyes. These horses aren’t free, they’re owned. Although their masters claim to love and care for them with only the best of things, they function not in tune with their natural born state, but conformed into something to satisfy their owner’s expectations. Much like a trophy.
Until one day they are used up and too old to satisfy their masters desires, and these horses who've devoted their entire lives to benefit the well being of others, is unwanted and discarded. Too old for another to desire. Their natural born state is forever broken and forgotten. No fight left in them to care, the inner beauty has become a mirror of the outward and people walk past without a notice. She remembers how it was in her younger nobler days. Not a care in the world, no tie downs or demands or reprimands for being who she was born to be. The only thing left for her to do is to dream. So she dreams. She dreams of a place where the horses roam free…
