I'm rotting inside
My flesh turns to dust
Its existence is in an eternal purgatory; it's never truly alive and never truly dead. It has no need for air, but it still occasionally draws in a breath to remember what it once was to be normal. To be truly whole and to feel a pulse when it ran is a memory now. As a child it took such things for granted, never knowing what it would become years later. Now it moves when it shouldn't. Decades ago its children tried to murder it and their mother, but they were only half successful. They won a battle, but not the entire war. They ended a rampage, a slaughterhouse, but anything can be rebuilt again. Anyone - anything - is capable of rising to power once more.
With the wind at its back, its eyes stare down the rugged path it once traveled. The scents are different and the trees have since grown, climbing toward the gray sky. There are leaning trees groaning whenever the wind presses against the bark. Underfoot the grass whispers sweetly, enticingly. It glances back once toward the meadow and calculates its next move. It hasn't had a real home in years - not since the Chamber - and it recoils at the idea of a higher authority. It can't be whipped into submission; it is a weapon more than anything. While hesitation pauses its forward motion, do not take it for fear. Nothing can scare it now, not when it has already faced Death and crawled back out from its cold, unforgiving embrace. It doesn't fear losing its children when it has already lost so much. It doesn't fear the loss of love for it has never experienced such a folly thing.
It simply wonders how its kingdom will handle a homecoming such as this.
It left the Chamber as a whole, feared to be forever dead. Now it returns as a corpse, a monster that has been spat from the bosom of Hell. It looks less of a horse than anything. Talons sink into the soil and jagged teeth protrude past its chapped lips. What should be fair, porcelain bone has been stained by old blood and sunlight. Flesh has sloughed off its frame, leaving gaping holes that are windows into its empty chassis. There's no need for organs anymore, not after having lived (and died) like this so many times. It's all shriveled and blackened with maggots and worms squirming through open crevices. A putrid stench follows in its wake as it takes a final step toward the Chamber.
Those sickly green eyes peer up at the mountain range ahead as memories begin to return. A low, pleased grumble vibrates through its core as it slinks another few steps across what borders there are. It has no regard for them; it never did. This was all once its kingdom, its empire. The crowns may pass down, but the land never forgets.
The Chamber will never forget its murderous king.
infection
because, why not xD