Vanishing Beauty

The rainbow colors of sunlight
Danced on his alabaster mane,
As he galloped the painted desert
In search of what he'd claim.

The wind calls him, his brother,
As the two spirits mold to one.
Reliving days of freedom,
As they ride beneath the sun.

He searches for the others,
Who once rode upon this plain.
The numbers now depleted,
Wild Mustangs were their fame.

Few left to him, the stallion
Continues on his way,
To claim the herds of others
Not like the former days.

Too soon, the last of them will go
As man claims all the lands.
The wild and the beautiful must go,
No more the mustang bands.

by Linda K. Vasconcelos

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