Death Rides
The sound of hoofbeats approach in the night,
The darkness has totally engulfed all the light,
Children lay dreaming in their little beds,
With visions of toys and candy in their heads,
Parents toss and turn restless not sure why,
Not really knowing what dangers are nigh,
A rider approaches on a pale white horse,
Ever so diligent in his appointed course,
His face obscured with an eerie black hood,...
An aura around him emanating nothing that's good,
His long black cloak flapping behind him in the wind,
His pale gnarled hands whipping the reigns again and again,
Faster and faster he rides to his destination,
Bringing such pain, misery and condemnation,
Feelings of dread mark his passing in the night,
Causing dreamers to awake suddenly with fright,
Intent on delivering a long, cold, and morbid kiss,
To the name that's next on his long macabre list,
Someone somewhere draws their last sweet breath,
For that rider on the pale horse is none other than Death.
