As the sky is drenched with blood,
The landscape turns to coal.
Against the silhouette a speck,
A lone horse ranges on.

A creature of majesty, hitherto unseen,
Solitary guardian of the night.
Its mane fans out, caresses the sky,
Constellations dance in their light.

Awe struck eyes, whispers afloat,
Our saviour come at last.
Yet the lone horse ranges on,
A silent pledge held fast.

A cloud of dust left in its trail,
The wolves they sing their song.
The cold night air it hangs so low,
Yet the lone horse ranges on.

A destination unknown to most,
A mission decreed by whom?
An onus of proportions cosmic,
A path lit by the moon.

A ghostly lyric, as old as time,
It haunts your every sinew.
A war drum beats, it urges on,
A heartbeat out of tune.

As the darkness rules us all,
The silence holds its ground.
Broken by a sound that grows,
A lone horse ranging on.

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