From the grace of heaven
I fell to earth
Yet within my mind
I continued falling
Through.

Into the abyss of darkness
I have no origin
When approached by a soul
Mightier then I
I was unable to face him
Directly.

For he was, a golden glow
I dare not look
He spoke, not in words
But in thoughts
Who Am I
I asked?

You were chosen
Displaying before me,
A beautiful white stallion
As bright as virgin snow
His name is unknown,
I was told.

A weapon was placed
Into my hand
Arming me with a golden
Double edge sword
Sharp as a razor
Harder than steal.

I was mounted, on the stallion
Who Am I
I asked again?.
An order, caused the stallion
To gallup at incredible speeds
Who Am I
I screamed?.

You are, the one that sits
On the white horse
Called "War"
With those words uttered
We gulloped, into the four winds.

Huge wings
Protruded from the stallion's sides
Flopping silently, at high speeds
I found myself, riding on the wings
Of Pegasus.

My destiny, was the battle fields
Of the Mideast, where men
Gallantly fought each other
Knee deep
Mixed, in blood and crude oil
To swing my sword, without discretion.

By: William Bonilla
12/16/04