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The Pale Horse Rides
There comes the pale horse
across the glittering snow
a sea of white, where ghost prints
leave no trails.
A shadow of a figure
mounted upon its back
undisturbed by winds despair
it seems to glide
as the pale horse rides.
There is no escape
when the faceless shadow
extends a hand, a whisper lost
to the souls
come and ride
away upon the pale horse
Moved, quaking inside
only coldness is the touch
but there is no denying
the draw to the darkness.
To be swept away
upon the pale horse
and ride forever
into the light of the moon
come and ride
away upon the pale horse
There echoes softly in the still air
not a sound heard, not a sound made
you know the time is here.
The time to ride
into the darkness
and sing the chorus of souls
come and ride
away upon the pale horse.
3:35 PM - 8/19/2008 -
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