Lost Paths Of Unicorns by Galadriel
A breeze is tearing down the leaves of the trees
(That are) falling asleep in the colors of Fall
Again, I can hear that strange beat of the Earth
That melancholy neigh and sorth of the nostrils
The strokes of hoofs sound again over the land
I can see them again galloping gracefully
Their blowing white manes, a tender sharp horn on their brow
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