The vines curl

‘Round the courser’s hooves

Green leaves swirl 

The stallion moves

Vines tighten

Refuse to release

He tries to fight them

Tries to make peace

Green mouth agape

Horse dragged closer

The pitcher plant waits

To eat the courser

With the slice of a sword

The courser is freed

The plant is gored

By the chestnut steed

Escaping the cave

The courser flees

Escaping the grave

But still ill at ease