The Rider

The Rider Slivers of skyline tree arms of emerald the waning sunset,time runs out peach colored archways, lest we forget Golden grass tall as fences white birches swaying gently the howls of a wolf in the dark of night Emptiness and fog go hand in hand rotting buildings and tumbleweeds the apocalypse is here! The rider collects his dues a silver barrel jutting out wearing jeans and a tattered coat with no exceptions,as to the blood on his shoes He has a malicious tongue and a roll of smokes his breath, cold as winter the eyes bright as the sun His steed, a glowing ember of red teeth white like a ghost, tail whipping wild muscular legs and ginormous head snorting smoke to which he couldn’t blow The pale horse of death limping, on its last leg drinking water from a creek as if it were a keg The land dusty and brown gods of chariots, fire and brimstone falling from the sky mythical creatures with no reason why He gives no mercy…. Just death