Neil Young - Neptune*

Curving now
And moving fast,
The wave rolls higher than the dead of war.

Growing now,
Gathering on
The tip of foam, a line of horses heads.

Faster now,
Their bodies formed
Of frothing wave exude quick-scented madness.

Wilder now,
They touch the shore.
Webbed feet and white legs strong, race on in anger.

Smaller now,
Their manes dissolve
In sand; their bubble-eyes wash shell, wash hand.

Inches deep
These figures melt,
Retreat, with cursing eyes for wars deceit.

Further out,
Impulsive lines
Raise helpless heads, come charging to their death.

Neil Young

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/neptune-2/