Late night ride upon the stallion,
Buffeting through the strong headwinds.
Blind eyes gaze upon the blood red form,
Sad hearts mourn beneath the storm.
As we gather round our mounds to pray,
And the stallions charge against the fray.
The poets walk among the seven stars,
With a black book bound with seven seals.
As four beasts stare full of eyes within,
Our fathers mourn their life of sin.
And if we ride upon this pale horse,
Will the sun and moon stay their course?
Speak thus so our ears can hear,
From each corner of this vast dark earth.
Angels with trumpets standing in the sun,
Spare us now from the fate of Babylon.
Reveal his presence upon the white throne,
From the first to the last, bring us all home.