The Winds ride high
As Chase rides nigh
Through the meadows
Leading shadows
Chased by the sun
Scared, he will run
From me, creeping
Firmly closing
The gap he shuns.
Through the mists grow
His silhouette,
And his creased brow
A stark palette
Of the world's sons.
Onward they ride
With Chase their guide
Through the lone gap
Past the known map.
And death they meet
And death they greet
Blood soils the earth
And howls of rage
The enclosed garth
This boiling cage
Where shadows dance
Their lonely prance
With falling men.
Alone he rides
The churning tides
Of endless time.
A singing chime
Marks his return
And his eyes burn
Their endless feats
To drumming beats
The life I pen.