The rider rode with outstretched hands,
on wingless flight of complacency,
shadows of fear following through
unlighted halls of decency,
faceless figure touched by all.
The rider rode through dreams of meaningful thoughtfulness,
searching minds for reality,
hooded eyes never revealed,
guided by fluttering curtains,
passed on as normal feasibility,
moonstruck by the essence of morality.
The rider rode trying to best his time
with moonrise,
touching on minor idiosyncrasies,
idolized by the wimperings of nightmares,
illegitimacy of human nature simmers
to its simplicity.
The rider rode to find the simian
slumbering within,
shrunken in daylight, needing the seeds
of night,
simple-witted ideals to ferment,
featureless to perfection evoked by
favoritism.
The rider rode through dreams of the
fatherland,
agreeable to our fancies--all know him
through visions
left on feather pillows, palpitations
and sweat his calling card,
received on the return of our awakening,
given into the scenario of the mind's
seclusion.