The black and white stallions battled on a hill,
Their hooves like razors sharpened for the kill.

One black as Satan the other Angelic white.
They fought through the day and into the night.

Neither would withdraw from the battle he waged.
The rest of the herd watched as the death struggle raged.

Scarlet billows flowed over his snow white skin,
As the Black's sharp teeth struck again and again.

Dust and dirt swirled around the deadly fight.
Silhouetted against the sky, it was a frightening sight.

One would retreat and scream with pain,
Just to have the other strike again.

The black fell to his knees, blood covered his back.
The white sensed victory and pursued his attack.

One final kick, the Black's body lay still,
Silence returned to the top of the hill.

Injured and weary, the white staggered away.
A younger stallion will challenge his crown one day.