Riders four, we set forth on our grim way
I rode a red horse, my brother – pale grey
Our sister followed in terrible might
Mounted on fell stallion, black as the night
Our father’s horse, white as winter’s breath
And the name writ across his face was Death.
My sword hung heavy in my strong right hand
I dragged its sharp point through the fallow land
Drew a line in blood and raging fire
Selling off my wares to every buyer
Warfare was my stock and my chosen trade
Where my horse passed, all mankind drew the blade.
My brother bore a scythe on shoulder broad
And he reaped as we rode on our maraud
Singing doom to every living thing
His song flying forth, a plague taking wing
The earth itself shaking in fever-throe
Where his horse passed, all that lived was struck low.
Our sister rode behind with brazen scales
Weighing the world at the end of all tales
Leveling all that once stood proud and tall
Naming the damned at the final roll call
Justice at sunset of a waning world
Where her horse passed, judgment scrolls fell unfurled.
Father bore nothing in his still white hands
And in his wake rose up choking white sands
He watched with blind eyes the doom of the earth
Fool’s grin on his face, lips twisted in mirth
All that yet was fled before him in horror
Where his horse passed, nothing moved anymore.