Beast of Burden

The equatorial sun was sharp and biting, It had the mercury boiling, The tar roads looked humid without being so, Cars and traffic ran petulantly, People were scared of burns, Roads were deserted, As most did not take up turns, You did not need lenses, For the sun to singe through your senses, It went about that business moment you came under it, I was on streets by default, Moving in a cab, Driver had stopped for a liquid dab, And even the vehicle needed to spread its flab, I caught sight of a beast, A poor and miserable beast, It was a beast of burden, And in ill health at that, A poor flogged burden carrying horse, It was plodding heavy footed , A huge burden of steel rods, Was pulled along in a heavy wooden cart, The rods were long, And wound in one loop, But the beast had no hope, Its persevering master, Shouted and whipped, As the skinny legs now crumpled and now ran, I do not if horses sweat, But if they do this was the situation, Where he could have as well died by being bled, But man was bound by his task, And the beast a servant to his will, If one could not rest, He would not let the other rest as well, They went on and on, And away from my sight, I wondered how long would that beast still fight.