Clouds of white up oh so high,
Fill up the brilliant morning sky.
Yet there is a shadow that cuts through the day,
Flitting from cloud to cloud in a familiar way.
In a world full of secrets there’s something to behold,
Of the one whose story must simply be told.
A brave and a beautiful creature can be found,
Who to neither the earth or sky can be bound.
Born from the blood of a monster so cold,
An a god who created this site to behold.
Whose head is held proud at the stories that unfold,
Of the white winged horse who is brave and so bold.
Whose hooves may have danced on the heavens above,
An shared the same path as the peaceful little dove.
Whose name is whispered in stories of such fame,
Yet he is one that no mere human can tame.
With a mane of white and heart oh so pure,
This mythical creature haunts so much folklore.
Carrying Zeus’ bolts was a task he was given,
An towards Perseus this steed was then driven.
Faithful to the end Zeus promised him this,
He would spend eternity in the sky and would never be missed.
As a star in the heavens that lit up the sky,
He made sure that his story would never die.
So this was the tale told without fuss,
Of the white winged horse that they call Pegasus.
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