A mighty crown
Sat upon an unseen head
The people around him
Quailed with fear and dread.
Upon a dark horse he sat
His unseen flesh
Covered from head to toe in black.
His sword speared those
Who stood in his way
As he screeched out in glory
In his Master’s name.
The hoof beats pounded on the unpaved road
But swiftly came to a halt
For someone had dared to stand in his way.
“Move Old Fool!”
He screeched
“Can’t you see it is my day?”
The white figure just stood there
With fire in his eyes
“You cannot pass,
I will not let you go by.”
The lone figure replied.
The black king sneered
With his unseen lips
At the old, white figure
Who would not back down.
So he urged his horse
Into a plodding run
But the white figrue stayed his ground
And didn’t even blink
At the dark king charging his way.
But then great horns blarred out
With a ringing sound
And the dark king stopped
Then turned around
With fear in his eyes
He fled away
But didn’t turn around
To look at the lone figure
Who could not be swayed.