My hooves thunder the ground under
As leather heels push into the grooves on my side
A fog swoops down and whirls
The wind join us and unfurls
My rider’s eyes see nothing, but know
Where to find another face of woe
The place that will soon be their last
Their memory lost to the past
I only carry the portent
That alas nothing can forfend
Say your prayers and hold your cross
For you’re soon found dead in the
Featured Image Credit: DMDave Publishing