The Rising Darkness

The night begins to fall so brief
And twilight upon the land does creep
Stirring, twitching, moving sounds
Come up from beneath the ground

A whisper of power from the woods
Gleaming red eyes from beneath dark hoods
A chant, a thrum as shadows move
Marching through the sacred wood.

From the darkness a steady sound
And from the night fear abounds
The clomping of spectral steeds draw near
The gorge in the throat is rising fear

One shape so dark and dread
Upon a horse skeletal and dead.
Three more from behind this one comes
Death is on the wind, no where to run

Upon the earth they have appeared
The four horseman we all have feared
Unconscious terror grips mans heart
The end of times, will verily start.