The rider comes His onyx cloak billows against an inky sky Silhouetted by the moon's cold glow Stallion's legs pump powerfully Thundering through the night The cold blast of its breath announcing The arrival. Scarlet orbs burning from a shadowed hood Teeth bared in a mocking smile Leather clad fingertips touching the reigns The rider comes. The earth trembles in his presence The grounds upheaval an insistant cry For Him to pass by swiftly, shivering in the wake of The arrival. I feel the grounds convulsion, the twisted dance of fate And turn to fix my visage to the horizon. Against the swirling silvered mist The rider comes. No longer moving, breathing, speaking... The heart seems to hover in anticipation... Sensing with quavering wonder... The arrival. The horizon explodes in a vicious crescendo Of steed's and Master's screams The song of the banshee ripping asunder tranquility... The rider comes. My head lifts high, my soul echoing the shouts I cannot move...I wait and utter up vain prayers To vain gods...Knowing that I must be ready for The arrival. No last look, no lingering goodbyes A simple cutting of binding ties A strong arm stretches out for me, I lift my hand in surrender... The rider comes. He comes for me.