Treasure Island

Horse Poet


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The Thunderer

I stand still among the blowing grasses
And north, the growing rumble passes
A thundering of hooves upon the plain
A cloud of dust rises, no wind can contain

Over the north rise, the Thunderer appears
A gray stallion followed closely by rain tears
A furious storm follows fast upon his heels
And hell, as lightning and thunder, peals

[Hata Bildir]