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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1813591-The-Final-Truth
by Mia64
Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #1813591
The race of the brumbies
The sun rises over the mountains,
like a peacock spreading its tail.
Adorning the sky with color,
then dimming to the mists ghostly veil.

The air echoes with thumder,
ground shakes as though in fear.
Then the brumbies race through the valley,
their liberty to protect, every year.

The yearlings excited in their gallop,
racing to pastures unknown.
Their dams forever on alert,
one eye on their sire - the majestic roan.

Their race through the mountains to freedom,
where man has no part in their life.
Every year they know they mast face this race,
to stay free from man-made strife.

The mighty roan is ageing fast,
knows this will be his last run.
To reach the safety of untamed land,
the survival of his herd, hard won.

A colt, in his image, has shown his worth,
standing shoulders above the rest.
Displaying no fear of any threat,
his time is near, to be put to the test.

The old stallion, possessive of his many mares,
knows he must bow down to youth.
He'll fight the youngster, knowing he can't win,
his defeat forces the final truth.
© Copyright 2011 Mia64 (mia64 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1813591-The-Final-Truth