Poetry

Pale

Wielding the gifts of its ruthless kin
Its gift, received by all that basked in sin
Hades trails behind, jaws wide open
Swallowing whole the unworthy of being chosen
God, the judge and jury, while death dons the hood
One by one, their heads laid across the stained wood
No lambs blood will offer salvation
For the Lamb’s wrath shall see no cessation
Wondering a silent earth, emptied of the cursed and the blessed
The Pale horse and its kin will walk as one and lay to rest

 

‘Pale’ is the fourth and final entry in my poetry series on the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and is about Death. I have had a lot of fun writing this series and it has been a worthwhile challenge. And I think that I’ll definitely want to do more poetry series in the future.
© 2018
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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