Last Unicorn

She sways her great mane
To ward off man tame.
Her horn is her fame,
To man causes great pain.
Though a sip of her blood through her magical horn
Can heal a man's wounds so skin not be torn.
She runs in fear,
As man's swords draw near.
They capture her,
Torture her,
And cause her great pain,
To them she is treated as game.
Wizards and warlocks will pay a great gain,
To have her set free from her oh so known fame.
Among the forehead lays a magical horn,
On the Last Unicorn.