The jet black steed comes and goes welcoming people to turn off their brain and unwind. It has many riders, some have emotions as dark as his coat and some look bright as the moon. The horse beckons me to close my eyes and let his words fill my conscious. His neighs paint the street and the towering lamps are so moved by them they light the path ahead. Children fear him, teenagers will never listen to him, and adults need more of him. His hooves make little pointy imprints in the sky that shine as bright as the moon they surround. People claim to have scene him leaving these hoof marks but he has already dashed off. He keeps everyone in the place they need to be and helps them with the course they must run. Yet nobody thinks about him, they only think of the sun.