Shadowfax - A poem honoring Shadowfax

If beauty had true form,
the form of a horse it would be.
A four legged creature that lives
in a silent world.
He should fly without wings,
and conqure without sword.
No complaint would be uttered
from his mouth.
Living contently, and peacefully
in this world of pain.
But the companionship between him and rider,
would never sease to talk.
With a liquid movement of mane and tail,
he's off, galloping away,
the speed of wind,


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