Silent whispers cascade from the mesa
Down the baron plains
Faint echoes of a forgotten deity
Fragrant fields perfumed with wheat
Once trodden by his powerful hooves
Emptily wave against the soft speaking wind
Leaving no memory of the ancient beast’s passing
Thunder, reminiscent of his banded regiment
Beats overhead, a reminder of who once owned this land
Never again will his majestic silhouette overlay the scarlet sunset backdrop
For now… he is merely…
… A ghost of the plain.
Copyright 2004 Crystal Passion
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