Welcome!
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Welcome to 'Horse Peack' the place where anyone is accepted no matter your size, colour, shape, weight, age, gender and basically everything. This is a paradise for those with a love for horses. Cats and dogs are able to freely roam the vast lands of horse peack and live the life of luxary, having time time to their selves, spending time with their human, family and friends and experience more about the horse. Humans bring their horses to live in luxary as they also do. Vast lands to ride out on or even go for walks, swimming in the clean rivers and staying cool. Mustangs run freely with no need to run from the humas, the humans leave them in peace and let them graze. Rabbits and birds also roam free with no need to scare, a life of ease is what you get at horse peack no cars nor humans t worry about. This is a paradise that meerly everyone to love!
Here are some poems;
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A million years before man they grazed the vast empty plains living by voices only they could hear. They first came to 'Horse Peack' as the hunted not the hunter. For long before he used horses for his labours he killed them for meat. The alliance with man would forever be fragile. For the fear he struck into their hearts was to deep to be dislodge. And now they run free....
The stories we hear about how the west was won are all lies. The history of the West was written by the horse. Wherever a settler left his footprint there was a hoof print beside it. Men came further and further West to stake their claim on the great American wilderness. But they encountered a strength that couldn't be tamed- wild horses. Mustangs. The settlers called them parasites that would strip the land and starve their own herds. They couldn't domesticate them so they destroyed them. Isolated and hungry, they were on their way to disappearing from the face of the earth. Sometimes when the light disappears an afterimage remains- just for a second. Mustangs are an after image of the west, no better then ghosts, hardly there at all. No one really wants them, not ranchers, not city people- that's their destiny. Let them disappear once and for all, along with all the other misfits, loners and relics of a wilderness no one cares about anymore. Lucky for us a few mustangs survived, hidden away in the mountains. We need to protect them, for they are the hope of some kind of living memory of what the promise of America used to be- and could be again. I believe there is a force in this world that lives beneath the surface, something primitive and wild that awakens when you need an extra push just to survive. Like wildflowers that bloom after fire turns the forest black. Most people are afraid of it, and keep it buried deep inside themselves. But there will always be a few people who have the courage to love what is untamed inside us. One of those men is my farther. There was once a time when Americans came West to discover their destiny. Today they seem to move around every wich way, restless an unsettled. But i think they're still looking for the same thing- a place where they can be optimistic about the future, a place that helps them to be who they really want to be, where they can feel that this life makes sense, a place where they can feel what i feel when i am riding- because when we're riding all i feel... is free.....
The stories we hear about how the west was won are all lies. The history of the West was written by the horse. Wherever a settler left his footprint there was a hoof print beside it. Men came further and further West to stake their claim on the great American wilderness. But they encountered a strength that couldn't be tamed- wild horses. Mustangs. The settlers called them parasites that would strip the land and starve their own herds. They couldn't domesticate them so they destroyed them. Isolated and hungry, they were on their way to disappearing from the face of the earth. Sometimes when the light disappears an afterimage remains- just for a second. Mustangs are an after image of the west, no better then ghosts, hardly there at all. No one really wants them, not ranchers, not city people- that's their destiny. Let them disappear once and for all, along with all the other misfits, loners and relics of a wilderness no one cares about anymore. Lucky for us a few mustangs survived, hidden away in the mountains. We need to protect them, for they are the hope of some kind of living memory of what the promise of America used to be- and could be again. I believe there is a force in this world that lives beneath the surface, something primitive and wild that awakens when you need an extra push just to survive. Like wildflowers that bloom after fire turns the forest black. Most people are afraid of it, and keep it buried deep inside themselves. But there will always be a few people who have the courage to love what is untamed inside us. One of those men is my farther. There was once a time when Americans came West to discover their destiny. Today they seem to move around every wich way, restless an unsettled. But i think they're still looking for the same thing- a place where they can be optimistic about the future, a place that helps them to be who they really want to be, where they can feel that this life makes sense, a place where they can feel what i feel when i am riding- because when we're riding all i feel... is free.....