Ghostly horses spiraling around,
Silenced hooves,
Eerie sounds of carnival music,
lingering in the air.
A spectrum of horses whirling round,
Leaving misty trails,
Never to stray.
Adrift in an endless, infinite ride,
Impotent to escape their enchantment,
Tamed slaves; servants to an incessant task,
Suspended like spectres above a cemetery.
Their hearts belonging to the whipping wind,
Never to lead but always to follow,
Incapable of gaining liberty; eternally caged.
May their emancipation be feasible,
For to be free is to live,
To live is to be free.