by James I. Harris
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
Rated "R" by the Author.
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Look at what I see in the distant far.
Four riders purge and all of man does yell.
Whence did they come beyond the brightest star.
Mankind's wailing is a sad and frantic hell.
War, Pestilence, Famine, Death they do sow.
Followed by hounds ripping man's flesh apart.
Tearing meat & bones, the blood does flow.
Oh GOD end it and grant them a fresh start.
Sins of vengeance is their constant chant.
No mercy gave to Pope nor plain-man.
Ripped souls cling to life as they gasp & pant.
All evil is dooming so escape if you can.
Pray for them quick, they scream and they cry.
They are too late! Too late! They die! They die!
These four reaped violent vengeance on thee.
All are ripped & torn & slashed & cut.
Their eyes are gone; bloody sockets can't see.
Blood, waste and slime are oozing out each gut.
Agony rewarded and their stench is foul.
Four thieves shred lives eaten by hounds.
Their remains are no larger than a bowel.
Earth is gory as blood covers the grounds.
All juices sucked in the soils must soften.
No praise, no prayer, nor kind word for one.
All is lost; no priest, no grave, nor coffin.
From this terrible fate no man can run.
Four Horsemen, clad in whorish crimson-silver,
Came to Earth seducing souls they did pilfer.