Pale Horse


Souls need not converge around an alter to be blessed;
The blood trails that lead them is too horror a burden
Misery need not converge around the eyes to be felt;
The blood trails they cause forth is too heavy a burden

O darkness!
Engulf me, you slave of the morning,
You spirit of death
What keeps you long from my mourning?
You taker of breadth
Sweep me under your wings and show me your kindness
I am your home servant, make me your witness

The bitterness of birth is twisted;
The scriptures made it look plain
The sweetness of death is neglected;
The scriptures made it look vain
You lord of the rejected,
Kiss your poison into my veins
May I cross the gate into your blissful bane


2 thoughts on “Pale Horse

  1. WP lost the first stanza when I clicked like in the e-mail message. I have seen those blood trails. Never did enough to see trails of my own, but I saw others’. Many were rejected or felt they were and “kiss your poison.” Beyond the bliss lay death.

    Damn good poem!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for your generous comment!
      Actually I removed that stanza myself. I thought it was a little out of context; perhaps I could use it more accurately in another poem.
      I really appreciate your sincere observations. It helps me.

      Liked by 1 person

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