The Wooden Horses


Wild and beautiful they were
Wild and beautiful they are
Through forests and deserts,
In terrains, wild and serene
The old friends of distant times
On their toes and on ground
As the invasions began,
An old mistake, in Persia
Came the hordes with fire
Travelled they to the corners
Of this earth, and me as I grew
The old friends of distant times
As the air begins to leave
In the old mountains
The new game begins,
Dance they do for hours,
As the air begins to leave
As humans begins to tire
Still enough in them,
The air and its fire
The old friends
From distant times
As I run past every day,
My old friends,
From distant times
The old wooden horses

Kashkin

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