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.
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