A soft breeze stirs the spots of sunlight gently pouring through the trees
In the shaded grass lies a creature shivering in pain, restless among the rottening leaves

Black blood with a dark red shimmer drips down its sides that barely move since its breath is faint and weak
Bowing its majestic horned head with a once beautiful mane now drenched in filth and dirt, once proud now thrown down from its peak

Around its wrists\' remain broken shackles of iron thorn
Wings made unusable by deep slashes, its name forlorn

Growling and twitching from pain when rising, it lowers its arms that were crossed over its chest
Its bleeding chests\' carapace is torn and pierced violently for it was once caressed