The Nightmare and His Rider

Red light of fire, a stallion, a nightmare, One of the devil’s attire. Riding through the lake of death, Bones break and clatter under hooves of steel. The rider’s shadowed sillouette, Encompasses the unholy zeal. They cower, they fall, blood comes down like rain. The nightmare drinks aplenty, and the rider feeds off the pain. Unspoken words whisper between the minds, Of those whom stand against. For all it takes for this evil to win, Is nothing of good men.