The Horse of War

Upon the hill, of those past gone
A black shadow against the night.
Its head held high, gazing empty
Wraithlike eyes...void of sight.

A spectral tail caresses the dark.
Icy mist seeps from its core.
Bright red eyes flare with malice.
The phantom horse of war.

Below the hill, remnants of battle.
Wasted souls of a hopeless fight.
The ghostly shadow walks among them
The soulless steed of night.

Slowly, surely, the stars are stifled,
And the endless night seems new.
The silence fills the air with sound,
But eerie stillness awakens few,

Death awaits those who linger
A peaceful sleep for those who pass.
A visit from the horse of war.
And relief from pain at last.

The empty shadow, void of light,
Returns to the crest of the slope.
Its eyes deep with flames within,
The mighty stallion...Spirit's hope.

Once again, upon the hill,
The shadow returns against the night,
It rises up its head in challenge,
And disappears out of human sight.

- by Zoe Donaldson