Me as a Wild Horse

Rushing, whipping, wooshing.
The wind tries in vain to stop me.
To grab me, to slow me down.

Running through the plains.
Nothing standing in my way
Only the grass and sky and earth.

I step up my pace.
Speed is the only tought.
I will make it.

As I reach the boundary,
Will I break free?

Faster than the wind itself,
I free myself from gravitys pull.

I will run forever with no master.
I will be free.

The End

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