.*.~.*.~.*.~.*. Lady Elwen Iluvalatari Namarië tenna telwan, meldonya... Nai im almië Iluvatar nar or le... .*.~.*.~.*.~.*. Ava lave endarlya na rucina. Elyë harye vorima mi Eru; harye vorima yando mi nin... Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, at least you'll land somewhere among the stars. .*.~.*.~.*.~.*. .:*:.Polished Quill.:*:.
Skande, this is a really sweet poem; as a horse person, I can understand the feelings behind that loss, and it's really nice to see another person commending the horse the way you have.
I find it interesting that within the body of the actual poem, you don't mention directly that you are talking about a horse. I suppose it could pass for a human death, as well, especially with the "pour out all my pride and love of what you are and you've become" line, if that's even the correct notation... Sorry...
It fits really nicely, and the imagery in this is really catching!