The White Horse and a Corpse.

The world yelled at him, as he had to hear,
His past misunderstood, but his conscience clear.

At nights he woke and saw on his bed,
His thoughts smashed and his intentions misread.
He cried, he cried till his eyes turned red.

That night he dreamt of a beach with a white horse.
The horse that still carried the same old sweet corpse.
It cried for the corpse's life,
As the sea demanded a last romantic dive.

The horse had no stains of blood,
As it galloped into the sea, throwing away the corpse in the mud.
He smiled in his dream as it was all over.
His thoughts now had a beautiful cover.

The next morning he woke up, without any fear.
But the world yelled at him, as he had to hear,
His past misunderstood, but was his conscience clear?