Tusk Rider

Hunting the mastodon
Methodically tracking the herd
Suddenly, one spots the tribe
Comes barrelling toward the line
With a well placed club I bring it to its knees
Throw a rope around its tusks as it rips me off my feet
Thrashing
Grasping
Blindly flailing at the air
Gripping
The rope tight
I yank it back
With all my might
Perched atop 6 tons of muscle
I grab the reins and tie them taut
Terastodon skull as its muzzle
Bow before my steed or rot
Charging
Into the fray
You’re crushed under its feet
Cannot be outran
You cannot pierce its hide
Lay down the weapons you have drawn
And kneel before the mastodon
With a well placed club I brought it to its knees
I threw a rope around its tusks as it ripped me off my feet
The mastodon and I got to know each other well
Now upon its tusks I ride straight into Hell