When the call came, they had no say; a war horse they became.
From their pastures calm, they were transported to a foreign land.
Where their daily toil was hard; through burning sun, freezing weather, and mud, with death hovering, they plodded on.
Screaming, destructive shells and bullets killing them and their handlers, too.
They did not understand what they had done to deserve the terror, pain and a miserable end.
They knew they were safe and worked away while their rider survived, too, clinging on to their cherished memories of home to keep them both sane.
© 2023 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
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