The Ghost Horse

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The white stallion came from battle with blood on his flanks and sides
The blood kept flowing at a steady beat
His master’s sword was still sheathed on his saddle
Gold laced his saddle and bridle
You could see through the ghost horse’s eyes that he saw the his master die honorably
He longs to see his master again
Finally he lays down and dreams of he and his master
You can see him laying and dreaming happily forever

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