Death Rides In

Death rides in fast on his large pale horse hooves violently gliding over gravel nothing can stop him or alter his course An enigma for you to unravel his hooded cloak black covering white bones his sharpe scythe gleams in pale moonlit night he'll ignore your pleas and laugh at your groans he is the angel of the dark and light You will only ever glance him one time once you've seen, there is no turning away you will hear 'come with me, for you are mine' far too late for hope, much too late to pray look into his eyes, there are none deeper and know you're face to face with the reaper.