Equestrians

Here ye! Here ye! Here they come! Watch as they gallop! Each one detailed in chrome. Listen closely, and heed my ballad.

First in line, clad in white Holding such a mighty bows. He infects us all in the dead of night And Pestilence leaves on the wind he blows.

Next here comes, on horse of red Bloody hoof prints mark the soil With flaming sword, seen ahead All day and night, War works and toils.

Third in line, all in black He takes and steals All the meats on racks Famine is here, and dissolves our meals

Last but not least, on horse of pale green He comes in on a deathly quiet those he grabs are ne’er again seen Death, a vile temptress, begs ‘come and try it’.