Camels

Designed to walk the highways
Across the deserts where
The sun is blazing on their backs
And tears are everywhere
Great Arab arses on their backs
And often heavy weights
Striding out across the sands
The craven hearted states
Often without water
Expected to a trudge
Onwards with such aching limbs
Most would never budge
But still these slaves go onwards
Throw caution to the sun
With utter deliberation
When the day is done

Animals of mobility
Distinctive in their own way
They Have a reputation
An utter dignity
Lofty in their stature
Obstinate they be

Though humble they protesting
Cooperate each stride
Subjected to such anger
Behold the great divide
Too soon they reach the slaughterhouse
Their disposition sad
And there a blunt blade through their throat
To bleed out, it feels mad
Such viciousness aforethought
Utter malignancy
Balefulness and venom
And real acerbity

Legs flaying every which way
Blood gushing in the air
Coughing in the moments
The deadliness k is there
Laughter echoing skywards
Slaughter men we hear
Sadistic moves are common
Picked up by every ear

No gratitude and thankfulness
For all the striving stress
Each sense of obligation
Who could want for less
Acknowledging the efforts
Each strenuous display
All the weight it carried
Given credit for the way
It strode beyond indulgence
Aware of its decay
Revengefulness personified
The finality of the day

It gave its bounden duty
Rewarded with an end
It’s skin to be the leather
Pliably will lend
A softness to a slipper
A bodice or a belt,
Disparaging the king of kings
It’s final card now dealt.