He rides his horse with speed of light,
Through-out the shadows of the night.
It brings up terror and despair,
It turns the darkness into flare.
The seven winds sustain his flight.
He rides with fury, gust and might!
The black knight laughs and shoots his lash
His scythe cuts through the earthy ash.
When gleaming blade strikes through the ground
A lightning thunder hits with sound.
The fatal friend of human fortune,
The ghost of rest and mere reception
The sheep of Lord howl loud with torture,
They beg and ask for resurrection.
He will demand for your affairs,
Thou can't escape the trail of Lord
He won't accept your shiny gold
While waiting for you at your stairs.
Originally written in Russian 2004, translated by author
The Angel of Death
© Copyright: Роза Грёз, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111041206155
Свидетельство о публикации №111041206155
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