by Buzz T. Kryst

Created on: July 10, 2008

On a dark horse from the west he rides in with the wind
An inverted cross carved in his bosom and a sword made of sin
He rides in alone but an army he will soon have in his grasp
The end follows him and the next days could be the last
His heart beats faster against his chest as he rides
He knows his time has come and he shall soon die
The darkness on the horizon will soon be illuminated by fire

The screams of the damned will be the anthem of his choir

There is a small voice in his mind that is oh so faint
That tells him that this life does not have to be his only fate
But he knows different for in blood he has signed over his soul
And of his destiny he has no control
But could he turn his mighty steed back towards which he came?
And beat the Devil at his own foul game?
Should he dare fight the sickest being of them all?
Or ride forth until all of existence falls?

The thoughts pass through his mind but his horse never slows
In fact the more he thinks about it the faster he goes
There is no turning back now not even god could help
Anyway, what could be better than brining damnation by yourself?
His mind drifts

He is a young man, but of what age he can't remember
The chill in the air reminds him of what used to be September
He stares at her through her window; she knows he is there
Yet she still undresses because when he watches she does not care
Her skin is pale and her eyes are almost black
He often gets lost in them, and never wants to come back
He rides again

Faster than ever he moves forward towards battle
Towards the slaughter of the Shepard's cattle
Only a blood red tear falls for his departed love
All the more reason to wage war against He above
Anger rages throughout his body and sets fire to his veins
He screams his battle cry to try and release the pain
He knows she sits in heaven looking down in disbelief
He will never be with her again; he will never feel relief
If he can not kill Him for taking her that sickening day
He will slaughter those who stand in The Serpent's way
With their hands clasped he will slaughter them one by one
Clearing they way for the death of the son
Against love lost they can not put up a fight
God himself created but can not stop this Antichrist.

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