At the sound of the trumpet, clops can be heard.
A blur in the distance comes slowly into view.
A man gallantly sitting on a horse of white, draws
An unarmed bow.
A crown placed on his head, given to give
Awful power to conquer the strongest nations.
Another horse and man ride and follow.
Able to diminish the peace of the world on his fiery stallion.
A sword of steel is poised in his hand.
After the first and the second,
A steed, black as pitch and tar
And the darkest of evil and sin,
Approaches with a rider of famine,
Always unbalancing the scales that he holds.
Away he comes to starve the earth.
As they trot away to uphold the fate,
All people cry out as the next canters in.
Anatomy the color of a face frightened to
Almost nothing.
A rider upon the palest mare, named Death
Arriving to destroy the world in numbers.
At the end, however,
At last, comes a mighty white horse, with
An angel of nobility and honor upon his back.
A name that was known only to him, written on his
Arm. He races off with
An army following. He defeats the evil AntiChrist
And throws him into the fiery lake.
©September 28, 2000 Sarah Russell. All rights reserved.