may the cold grate beneath your hooves
give way to endless soil, galloping fields 
of rolling grasses, where you never feel
another brand.

may each wound leave your flesh,
ascendant, beyond electric stinging prods,
yellow ear tags, preventable disease. 

may you meet yourself in heaven
amongst the misused, forgotten
and meek.

let primal fear melt, roiling from
your shivering hide, rising to kiss
the ceiling of the slaughterhouse,
freeing you from an angry ghost.

may your rage learn to haunt your 
abbatoir. may it bear down upon
us in your wake. 

may your final destination be delayed,
an extra hour of sun, blood and breath,
an extra dose of instinct to flick away the flies.

may this world feel 
less like a cage 
for us all.