In fields where twilight softly falls,
The horses gather, free and bold.
Their manes like whispers gently call,
In stories ancient yet untold.

Beneath the moon’s embrace they sway,
A dance of grace, a rhythm pure.
In silent night, they find their way,
Through shadows deep and dreams allure.

With strength unbridled, hearts untamed,
They gallop through the endless night.
In every stride, their spirits claimed,
By winds that lift them to the light.

In harmony with earth and sky,
The horses roam, their spirits free.
A symbol of the wild, they fly,
In endless fields of liberty.