deepundergroundpoetry.com
Dark Rider
The moon shone bright o’re the barren land.
The wind through the trees like Death’s cold hand.
Galloping hoof beats sound through the night,
but, my friend, there is not a horse in sight.
Echoing loudly down cobblestone streets,
Hide now, dear children, lest Death you will meet.
Run to your houses and climb ‘neath your beds!
Hallow’s Eve is for pagans that worship the dead!
Put a mark on the door, leave a gift on the ledge,
and make sure that your soul, to the Lord, you must pledge.
Who is it that rides on the dark, wind’s cold breath?
My friend it’s a horse, with rider called Death.
Now hurry, dear children, to your beds you must go!
Or the rider will take you and bring you below.
Down under, where the demons and evil ones dwell.
Down under they’ll take you, so better hide well!
Get under the blankets and cover your heads,
For Hallow’s Eve night is the night for the dead.
The hoof beats are slowing, is someone awake?
Close your eyes, quickly! Or your soul he will take!
No playing or talking, hush now, he’ll hear.
For he knows when your frightened, and lives for your fear.
The mark on the door might not keep him at bay,
So better be quiet, my dear ones, and pray.
The Dark One is passing, and night gives a sigh.
The wind filters under the door as he rides.
No peeking! He’ll see you! Just keep your eyes closed.
His hell hounds are listening to you as he goes.
Remember, dear children, be good as you sleep,
and pray to the Lord that your soul He will keep.
The wind through the trees like Death’s cold hand.
Galloping hoof beats sound through the night,
but, my friend, there is not a horse in sight.
Echoing loudly down cobblestone streets,
Hide now, dear children, lest Death you will meet.
Run to your houses and climb ‘neath your beds!
Hallow’s Eve is for pagans that worship the dead!
Put a mark on the door, leave a gift on the ledge,
and make sure that your soul, to the Lord, you must pledge.
Who is it that rides on the dark, wind’s cold breath?
My friend it’s a horse, with rider called Death.
Now hurry, dear children, to your beds you must go!
Or the rider will take you and bring you below.
Down under, where the demons and evil ones dwell.
Down under they’ll take you, so better hide well!
Get under the blankets and cover your heads,
For Hallow’s Eve night is the night for the dead.
The hoof beats are slowing, is someone awake?
Close your eyes, quickly! Or your soul he will take!
No playing or talking, hush now, he’ll hear.
For he knows when your frightened, and lives for your fear.
The mark on the door might not keep him at bay,
So better be quiet, my dear ones, and pray.
The Dark One is passing, and night gives a sigh.
The wind filters under the door as he rides.
No peeking! He’ll see you! Just keep your eyes closed.
His hell hounds are listening to you as he goes.
Remember, dear children, be good as you sleep,
and pray to the Lord that your soul He will keep.
Published 30th Sep 2015
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