by Madelaina
The quiet
was almost as deafening as…

by Madelaina | When I was younger, I remembered sitting on the green-tan Nevada hills, listening to my dad dictate the beauty of the landscape with his admiring voice and that adventurous glint in his eyes that nothing else can lure out. The highlight of these quiet moments, when we locked ourselves away from the world, was the sight of a mustang band in the distance…

by Madelaina
Harsh is this world,
But wild horses keep fighting…

by Madelaina
My mesmerism is the way you blaze,
Across a land that surrenders a roar…

by Madelaina
Each rear, it draws me near,
Each buck steals them from gravity’s binds…

by Madelaina
Springtime you’ll joy in the clover,
the dandelion fields you believe a wonder…

by Madelaina
Blossoms that bloom through not only spring
Are these wild horses, alive…

by Madelaina | With the battle for the freedom of America’s wild mustangs, I’ve read, gathered and dwelled on the many facts I came across, and the thoughts that evolved from them. So here I’ve composed a small but provoking collection of them to hopefully inform and inspire…

by Julia
Thirty-three thousand roam the lands of the west.
They gallop and frolic with their own lands to roam…

by Madelaina
The sand’s teasing glares subsided
as the world was swallowed in a mouth of grey…