Skylark

Do you give the horse his strength or clothe his neck with a flowing mane? Do you make him leap like a locust, striking terror with his proud snorting? He paws fiercely, rejoicing in his strength, and charges into the fray. He laughs at fear, afraid of nothing; he does not shy away from the sword. The quiver rattles against his side, along with the the flashing spear and lance. In frenzied excitement he eats up the ground; he cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds.

My name is Skylark,we all heard stories of racehorses but never never been told by one....untill now.