Read Time:7 Minute, 44 Second

By William Van Zyl

Published on June 20, 2026

The wind howled across the frozen wilderness like a living thing.

Snow swirled through the dark pine forest, stinging exposed skin and reducing the world to shades of white, grey, and black. A desperate man clung to a galloping horse as warriors thundered behind him. Every breath burned his lungs. Every heartbeat echoed the urgency of survival.

Suddenly, horse and rider launched from the edge of a snow-covered cliff.

For a brief moment, they hung suspended in the icy air before plunging into the abyss below.

The horse struck first.

The impact killed the animal instantly.

The man survived.

A towering pine tree, laden with snow, cushioned his fall and spared his life.

Many readers will recognise this dramatic scene from The Revenant. The character, Glass, finds himself stranded in a frozen wilderness with little hope of survival. The horse that carried him to safety is now dead. Yet that dead horse becomes the very thing that preserves his life.

With night approaching and temperatures dropping dangerously low, Glass cuts open the horse’s carcass while it is still warm. Removing his frozen clothing, he crawls inside the animal and spends the night sheltered within it.

It is a shocking image.

A place of death becomes a temporary refuge.

A bitter situation produces unexpected survival.

The horse becomes both a symbol of salvation and a reminder that life often hides profound lessons beneath disturbing circumstances.

END OF THE INTRODUCTION

Reflections on Survival, Deception, and the Things We Invite Into Our Lives

Recently, while reflecting on this scene, I completed a new artwork that explores another famous horse—one whose appearance concealed a deadly secret.

My New Artwork: “Bitter Honey From The Horse’s Carcass”

I would like to share my newest artwork with you.

IMAGE: Details: Created using chalk pastels on a 1-metre by 1-metre canvas, the work was carefully preserved throughout the creative process using multiple layers of clear fixative, followed by a final application of high-quality protective spray.
Credit: The Author.

At first glance, the artwork appears cheerful and innocent.

The horse is bright, colourful, and playful.

Vibrant primary colours dance across its surface. Its form resembles a giant children’s toy mounted on wheels, designed to be pushed and pulled wherever it is needed. The image evokes memories of childhood, imagination, and carefree play.

Yet beneath the colourful exterior lies a deeper message.

Small rectangular windows are positioned along the horse’s belly.

These are not ordinary windows.

They symbolise hidden doors.

Trojan doors.

Doors that may unexpectedly open in the darkness of the night.

Doors that reveal something entirely different from what first appeared.

The artwork explores a simple but profound warning:

Be careful what you allow into your life.

Not everything that appears attractive, colourful, entertaining, or harmless is good for us.

Sometimes danger arrives disguised as a gift.

Sometimes destruction enters through a door we willingly opened ourselves.

The Original Trojan Horse

The inspiration for this artwork comes from the famous story of the Trojan Horse.

After years of war, the Greeks appeared to abandon their campaign against Troy. Before sailing away, they left behind an enormous wooden horse, seemingly as a peace offering.

The people of Troy rejoiced.

Their enemy had departed.

Victory seemed certain.

The horse was magnificent—a symbol of triumph.

They opened their gates and welcomed it into the city.

But hidden inside were Greek soldiers.

Under the cover of darkness, they emerged, opened the city gates, and allowed the invading army to enter.

By morning, Troy lay in ruins.

What appeared to be a gift became the instrument of destruction.

The danger was never outside the walls.

It had already been welcomed within.

IMAGE: The Trojan Horse that brought down a city.

IMAGE: Replica of the famous Trojan Horse.

A Biblical Parallel: The Enemy Within

Scripture presents a remarkably similar warning.

In Joshua chapter 7, Israel had just experienced God’s miraculous victory at Jericho. The nation was celebrating.

Yet hidden among God’s people was something that did not belong.

A man named Achan had secretly taken forbidden treasures from Jericho and buried them beneath his tent.

No one knew.

No enemy crossed the border.

No warning trumpet sounded.

Yet because of this hidden compromise, Israel suffered a humiliating defeat at Ai.

The danger was already inside the camp.

Throughout Scripture, this pattern repeats itself.

The enemy often succeeds, not by attacking from the outside, but by gaining entry through an open door.

Jesus warned His disciples:

“Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation.” (Matthew 26:41, KJV)

The Apostle Peter echoed the same warning:

“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.” (1 Peter 5:8, KJV)

Satan’s strategy has changed very little.

He seldom announces himself openly.

Instead, deception often arrives disguised as opportunity, pleasure, entertainment, success, influence, or even friendship.

The horse looks harmless.

The colours are attractive.

The wheels make it easy to pull into our lives.

Only later do the hidden doors begin to open.

Bitter Honey

The title of this artwork deliberately brings together two contrasting images.

Honey speaks of sweetness.

A horse’s carcass speaks of death.

Together they express one of life’s deepest paradoxes: God can bring wisdom from painful experiences, while evil often hides beneath attractive appearances.

In Judges 14, Samson discovered bees producing honey inside the carcass of a lion. From this unexpected discovery came his famous riddle:

“Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth sweetness.” (Judges 14:14, KJV)

Sometimes the greatest lessons emerge from suffering.

Sometimes God produces sweetness where we expected only death.

This idea is also reflected in the story of frontiersman Hugh Glass, portrayed in The Revenant. After being left for dead, he survived a freezing night by sheltering inside the carcass of a horse.

IMAGE: Glass removing the entrails from the dead horse. Credit: YouTube – “The Revenant”. A dream inside a dead horse.

IMAGE: Scene from YouTube. Charles Glass is inside the horse’s carcass, keeping warm. Credit: YouTube – “The Revenant”. A dream inside a dead horse.

The contrast is striking.

The Trojans welcomed a horse—and lost everything.

Hugh Glass entered a dead horse—and lived.

The difference was not the horse.

The difference was discernment.

One horse concealed death.

The other became an unexpected place of preservation.

Modern Trojan Horses

Today’s Trojan Horses rarely arrive as giant wooden sculptures.

Instead, they often come disguised as everyday opportunities.

Harmful relationships disguised as companionship.
Addictions disguised as recreation.
Deceptive philosophies disguised as enlightenment.
Greed disguised as opportunity.
Temptation disguised as freedom.
Digital influences disguised as harmless entertainment.

Many enter quietly.

They are attractively packaged.

Colourful.

Exciting.

Entertaining.

Seemingly innocent.

Yet hidden within may be influences capable of damaging our faith, character, relationships, and purpose.

Not every gift should be accepted.

Not every invitation should be embraced.

Not every door should be opened.

Looking Carefully at the Horse

My artwork intentionally presents a visual contradiction.

The horse is joyful.

The colours celebrate life.

The playful wheels invite movement.

Yet the small windows hint that something remains hidden.

Something unseen.

Something waiting.

This tension reflects the reality of our own lives.

The greatest dangers are often not those that frighten us immediately.

They are the ones that first charm us.

The things we trust without examination.

The influences we welcome without discernment.

The ideas we quietly pull through the gates of our hearts.

As followers of Christ, we are called to test what we allow into our lives, to remain spiritually alert, and to remember that appearances can deceive.

The Trojan Horse reminds us that destruction often arrives disguised as a gift.

The story of Hugh Glass reminds us that God can transform even places of suffering into places of preservation and hope.

That is the message hidden within Bitter Honey From the Horse’s Carcass.

May we have the wisdom to recognise the difference.

Not every horse should be welcomed.

Not every door should be opened.

And not every bright, colourful thing deserves a place within the city walls of our hearts.

Artwork note for an Art Gallery or Art Museum:

TITLE: Bitter Honey From the Horse’s Carcass
Chalk Pastels on Canvas
1000 mm × 1000 mm

At first glance, this colourful horse appears playful and innocent, resembling a child’s toy mounted on wheels. Yet hidden within its bright exterior are small doors inspired by the ancient Trojan Horse—a timeless symbol of deception concealed beneath beauty.

The artwork invites viewers to reflect on discernment, hidden influences, and the importance of guarding the heart. Drawing together history, Scripture, and contemporary life, it reminds us that not everything that appears attractive is beneficial, while God can often bring unexpected sweetness from life’s most difficult experiences.

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