A Pale Horse

Midnight lightning in the sky Man in black he passes by It seems to me he is out of place With the look of death upon his face Can't see his eyes, no soul inside Although he walks, he is not alive Followed by a pale white horse The one called death, he holds his course The demons gather about his feet Thunder abates, the lightning streaks For the hand of death, one soul he seeks As he paces, paces down the street The fog it creeps, it settles in In front of a home, his search it ends In the still of night, a breath of wind He climbs on his steed and rides again Did you hear the small child cry? As it took first breath of life? One he lives, and one he dies As away on a pale white horse he rides.