[Potato.]

username; Khaos
name; Struggles Of A Kitten
gender; Mare
eye color: brown
dam: --
sire: --

[Captain Chomp]

Mark

[Khans]

username; Khaos
name; Struggles Of A Kitten
gender; Mare
halter color; This? ^^
poem;

Click Clack
My word! The old man huffs
Click Clack
Good Lord! The old man puffs
Click Clack

Whoa! Kind Stranger, May I ask you 'bout this stead
It Clicks and Clicks, but not on a lead
I am rather confused, for what is it's deed?
It Clicks and Clacks as if its in need

Well then, I will tell you with all that I got
There is no lead, not even a trot
It can jump, it can run, but it is no bot
It is not in need for it is sought

But, Kind stranger, there must be something wrong
For its stride is far too long

Click Clack
The stranger was done
Click Clack
The old man was stun
Click Clack

The stranger then stopped with a jolt
Well, old man, it is called a tolt~

Click Clack

[heyheygirl101]

username; heyheygirl101
name; Little Girls Dream // Steed
gender; Stallion
halter color; black with silver clasps
poem;'
The Mighty Steed
Once when I was about your age, I saw a mighty steed, I saw him pulling his little cart along the street and I thought

“Oh what a lovely breed.”

Now my family was never rich but we were also never poor, we were simply in between. So when I came home from school that day I told my father of the steed I’d seen. Now like any father who works, he knew how much we had and of course he told me

“No, my dear, a steed costs too much to bath.”

I got a little upset I admit, I did, but that little steed stayed in my head, for months on end. I looked for him again, but never did my eyes see such a lovely steed as he. Until one day I was walking home and saw that boy again, except now he was no steed at all just an old horse pulling a wagon. So again I went home, and told my father of the steed that had become a horse, and he asked

“My dear what do you wish,”

And I said “To give him a wash.”

Now my father only laughed, as I smiled before him, and finally agreed to give that little horse a bath, now the only problem we had was finding the path. Off we trod through the smog and many a horse we saw, but none were ever my little steed, not a one at all. Still we continued to look, until we had made it ten blocks, my father told me

“My dear we can’t walk all night, it is late and everyone’s doors are locked, so don’t put up a fight.”

There I stood not looking at him, my lip quivering in a pout, before my eyes settled on a great black steed, who looked back into mine. My face lit up in an instant and my legs carried me to that steed. That day we took him far away, and never did we see such a mightier steed.
(It's a narrative poem, which is why it is kind of like a story... but with rhyming ^^)

[guilttripping]

username; fjord rider
name; Twilight What Lies Beneath 'Rocky'
gender; Stallion
halter color; Black
poem;'

Cave Dweller
Fortune Teller
Dark Desires
Gleaming Fires
Rocky Coat
Gracefully afloat
Earth Striker
Floor Piker
Ground Scorer
World Tourer
Never Tamed
Never Lamed


Never done a kenning before XD

[snowflop]

username; snowflop
name; Your my sky and my stars/ Ridgephos
gender; Male
halter color; Dark blue, with white spots
poem;'

Under the night sky
Lying in soft grass
Not a care in the world

He could run
But chooses instead
To lounge on the earth

Serenity
Softness
Peace at last

[.Fish Tank.]

username; .Fish Tank.
name; Erebus
gender; Stallion
halter color; Charcoal Grey
poem;'

With a coat dark as a raven,
and a mane that's charcoal grey,
In the night he can't be sighted,
and he cowers during the day.

With a whinny and a kick,
He'll curse the rising sun.
And when the day is over,
With it he is gone.

Down the looping ribbon,
of the path he's always known,
Through the purple moors,
In the moonlight as it shone.

Down goes the dangerous racer,
Through the paths he's traveled for years,
Leaving behind his footprints,
And also leaving his fears.

He races in the pale light,
Stopping at the peak,
Of the highest hill in the village,
And let out a writhing shriek.

And with his last sound before midnight,
The clock silenced his call,
As he closed his brown eyes once more,
He let himself fall.

[ｃｒｕｍｐｌｅｄ ｗｉｎｇｓ]

username; crumpled wings
name; Kiri
gender; Stallion
halter color; dark blue/light purple
poem; wip

[grapejuice]

username; Grapejuice
name; Mad As A March Hare [Deranged]
gender; Stallion
halter color; Light blue
poem;

He meets her at the stroke of midnight
When everyone is asleep
They are alone now, together
There is no need to speak
Words are pointless
Talk is cheap

He finds himself embracing her
And he begins to weep
For this lady isn't real
She's been dead for a long time
But she continues to live on
Inside the poor boy's frazzled mind

Who is she, you ask?
His mother, of course
Died when he was a wee lad
It hit him with such great force
Never again was he alright
Never again would he be the same
For the poor boy had gone mad
And now we call him "Deranged"

Sadly for him
This is just a dream
Soon, he'll wake up and realize
Well, life is certainly mean
Cruel, even, to torture him like this
He cannot escape the unfairness of life
Not even for a moment of bliss

[Whatever.]

username; Whatever.
name; Grár úlfur | Fenris
gender; Stallion
halter color; Dark brown with silver clasps
poem;'

Metal on rock,
An impatient snort,
Enamel grazes steel as he grabs the bit.

He gallops,
Wind grasps at his mane,
Free from the confines of pastures and stalls.

Slave no more,
His rider forgotten,
On the dusty ground of the starting gate.

He ran the course himself,
Passing the horses he had seen at the beginning,
Not caring that he would be caught at the end,
As always.

The terrain changed,
From mountain rock to forest floor,
He quickened his pace,
Flying over the path.

Running was his one true love,
Nothing else could hold his heart so near,
Sweet escape was his only drug,
Defying those who tried to break him,
He would be free.

Free from the saddle,
Free from the bridle,
Free from those who made him stay,
Free from his masters.

The end was in sight,
His freedom drew to a close.


He didn't adjust his pace,
Not even when a sharp crack broke the silence,
Not even when pain clouded his mind,
Not until he collapsed.

He laid there,
Nose almost touching the finish line,
Until a rider caught up,
Brining her snorting mare to a halt.

Everything was a blur,
Shouts sounded,
Energy flooded the area,
Wails of sirens and people alike,
Quiet talking.

He was dragged into a horse van,
Not the one he arrived in,
But one smelling of the last mare he saw,
A sharp prick,
Darkness.

He awoke in a sling,
His leg felt heavy,
He felt heavy,
His hooves barely touched bedding.

The stall was new to him,
The bedding different,
The stables hands brought no recognition,
Leaving him clueless.

He struggled to be free of his binds,
Panic set in,
Until a kind word stilled him.

He would be alright.