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deepundergroundpoetry.com
FOUR RIDERS
I. T H E W H I T E
‘Before me, the Lamb opens the first
Of seven seals to bring about the end
Behold, the beast cometh like thunder
And he that rode, a crown of conquest’
Awakening, through thresholds of unbeing
The tarnished crown that rests at my feet
In the slumbering halls of Tartarus
I have been brought back to inaugurate
Of comatose patterns upon the canvas
The gossamer of time will flay on both ends
Fly, edified by the gods, and devour
Tonic of the morose soul
I drinketh of the glistening liquid
And becometh apostle, reviled
Living in the coils of serpents
Hooked tongue and words of death
Hands wherest centuries crusted
Like the virus of man, suckling the tit of divinity
Vomitus stench throughout and around
Venereal days like a fecal masquerade
In the dripping waters of profane
A spoiled canvas
Once beautiful, now in tatters on the floor
I am enraged and in sorrow at once
But no mercy resides in me
My curtains revealed a darkness
That I am urged to release
Distant shadows
Upon the house at Thebes
Smoking pits and locusts
Torn asunder, the fruit of man
Boundless starvation
Scenes of leprous disaster imminent
In the wake of my king
As the wind of plague corrupts
So your sown seeds plucked
And your tools will rust
All will return to dust
Aeons of sleep and chains unbroken
Brothers, the time is become short
One by one we will ride upon the earth
At no living creature’s behest
Four signs at the fork in the road
Where dead ends await
I go forth, to conquer, lo
Come, and be witness
I, pestilence of the world
Grip fast on the lecherous hordes
When mortals deceive themselves
Depart and await finality, I implore
For books unwritten will stock your shelves
In calm demeanor, serenading the chaos
On a horse like abalone brilliance
Scepter of judgment’s last utterance
Unrest is thy fame
Conquest, thy name
‘And so he rode, to conquer
Commanding utter devotion
With a voice like a thousand trumpets
The Antichrist, with evangelion face
Bearing sickness for all to feast'
II. T H E R E D
‘And so broken was the second
Whence the spoils of conquest
A horse of red colour risen
Much like the blood to be spent’
With great sword in hand
Thereon I was, the harbinger
I shalleth split the kingdom of man
To fight on both fronts
Bloodshed and discord
The epitaph of peace
Hearken thine boisterous accord
And pyrrhic will, I preach
A great burden thrust upon kings
Nobility shall not be spared
A conflict to end conflicts
As all homes to be in disrepair
Gergovian songs for a rising zeal
Like Vercingetorix on Caesar’s heel
Or Vindex, the scourge of Nero
All martyrs for the grand reveal
O, the devil bleeds today
Fiends to watch our hell give way
A travesty and seek to blame
Genesis to build the frame
As heaven tears itself in three
The damned, careless and righteous
A thrice-fold war on triplet fields
As the mantle of the earth shudders
Let us hear your cries of rage
The coming of a darker age
Your statues, fallen, will turn to dust
And the fragments of mortality
Crushed like hirudineans
Odium of slain warriors
Scattered remains upon rorulent soil
The remnants of fruition defied
Underneath shriveled sun that was once bloated
The saints sing philosophies, crying for justice
Their lament scorching the temperament of angels
Their creation; spoiling in the pyres of wrath
Behold thy kingdom
Across every horizon
When all hearts are one
At last, begets my wake
On a horse like volcanic emergence
Sword of armies divided thusly
Battle is thy fame
And war, thy name
‘And the tireless sentinel of fire was he
To rape and pillage for his king
With chains to ensnare and enslave
His hungering gaze for rivers of blood
The juggernaut, with battle-scarred face
Bringing with him, calamity’
III. T H E B L A C K
‘And when the Lamb opened the third
Out came, materialized, a black horse
And upon the horse, a scale in hand
The lord of misers, tainted and leprous’
A voice, like an echo from a damp cavern
‘A denarius for your emaciation
Your crops are wilting in troubled times
I can measure you wheat for your last coin’
Footsteps in the fields
A bleak harvest this year
Your sweat and toil is unrequited
There, amongst the bickering crowds
Idolatry burning in their pained eyes
With what little strength they found
Lashing out at giving hands of the church
Naivety of their impending doom
A crumb for your trouble, but do repent
For the freezing wind that comes nigh
In the wake of jet hooves, blasted heath
Pounding on the doors of the wealthy
All debts must be paid
Commanding from the gallows
Lepers, I see them
Distorted reveries of what life cheated them
Ultimately, failed to pay tithe
Impoverished men in ragged clothing
Jaded by hardship and stricken with illness
While the fortunate few, charlatans
Clothed in spider silk weaved from tears
Gluttonous of their oil and wine
Drunk of the world that is dying
I come with no remorse
For to disrupt the causality, I cannot
Summoned to de-animate the feeble
Innately, the riches of sorrow thrive
A deluge that is too much to bear
Revolt, I daresay, youth aflame
For death is but a seal away
We could dance for stark infinities
Serenading to the misericorde truth
On a horse like charcoal from the ruined fields
Balance of coin outweighing the filth
Inequity thy fame
Famine, thy name
‘And the wistful, apathy of his breath
With grace, leapt into the longest night
His coming is the funerary knell
For the epitaph is come hither soon
The whisperer, with gaunt complexion
In his hand lies the last fruit’
IV. T H E P A L E
‘And then the fourth hath opened
And I beheld with hollow sockets
A horse, khloros and pale like carrion
As was the beast’s passenger
His name was Death, and Hell followed with
And by his word, the power of death
Given to the four, to kill with sword
And with hunger
And with pestilence
And with the hungering beasts of the earth’
With vultures circling the dark rider
A necrotic stench that pushes back against the wind
Serenade of the end that we hath arrived
Skeletal fingers wielding a great scythe
Come and see, Thanatos set free
And behind his every stride
The eternal void and its vile demons
Clawing at the already barren land
For every soul to shred
Like Ouroboros, a noose encircled the world
Decapitated corpses lie in the streets
The graves have become shallow, over-crowded
Rain washed a great many dead from out the ground
The Antichrist revels as martyrs are impaled
For the coming of the great betrayer
Nail in a coffin, nail on a crucifix
Nail to bind a soul to his whim
Into the maggot infested dead lain dreaming
Iconoclastic displays to feed the beast
Pale harvest
Benighted psalms of inundating darkness
Webs are spun of the sinews of deceit
O, how our spines lay bare for the king
And the angels that do indeed weep
Parting the heavens with divine loss
Murdering the archetypes
Perishing flocks of wretches and widows
Like willow tress, corpse brides
In ecstasy, where once alive
In purgatory, putrify
The name plastered on every home
Death
Thy corrosive touch, deflowering the pure
Violating virgin flesh, a sponge of breath
Corrupting once impervious innocence
Cometh the blackening of the sun
As the smoldering blood moon waxes
The earth trembles in thy shadow
And chasms split the sheltered masses
Cometh the trumpets of sevenfold
Standing atop at their high heaven gate
A modicum of time, blanket of silence
Covering hushed and tortured men
On a horse like ash from cremated bodies
Scythe to reap and to maim
Death is thy fame
Death is thy name
‘And the soul-engorged mist of his breath
With vigor, turned the wheel of fate
His coming was the epitaph
For all cognizant creature
Thanatos, with voice of horrors
The bringer of apocalypse’
Published 3rd Oct 2016
| Edited 17th Oct 2016
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4th Oct 2016 11:45am
Motherfuck yes. the entire piece was amazing though im partial to the Pale Rider for some reason. By far one of my favorite works on the site. thanks you.
4th Oct 2016 1:18pm
