Friday, May 18, 2007

Pale Horse

The trumpet of ashen and death
Writ large on the face of fear
Will this be an invasion on my body
Or the castration of my love?
The engine does chug invitingly
Distance short with the fuel of fun
The soul is wakened in the unknown
And the spirit flows meekly
When will the ordeal end
To deliver me from the Pale Horse of fear?

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