A Pale Horse
In a dream I saw a rider on a pale horse
but still felt no remorse for the things I’ve done,
and the moonlight shone upon the graveyard
picking out black letters on a pale stone.
The sky grew lighter as the dawn drew near,
revealing the name of one I once held dear
who shared my pillow for a joyful year.
Slender as a willow, she had blue-black hair,
slender as a willow and as pale as death
and tender as a blossom on a green stem.
Her hips clung like ivy and her sweet breath
tasted of berries drenched in cool cream.
I knew my cold heart froze the spark within her,
the vital spark that wills life to persist.
My cold indifference tore the life within her
as sure as if my hand had held a cruel knife.
Indifference to a love that’s truly given
is cold as any blade, as cruel as any blow.
I found her cold and rigid in the morning,
hanging from a willow in the cold rain.
In my dream her lifeless eyes accuse me.
Beside her is a rider on a Pale Horse.
I want to cry and beg for absolution,
Retribution would grant a kind of justice
All my life those lifeless eyes will haunt me.
Each man kills the one he loves the poet said;
she filled my world though she came from another,
I tried to love her but she was a mystery.
Each day I try but can feel no remorse,
beside me steps a rider on a pale horse,
only through my death my love may live again.
I only see reality within a dream.
