And their death came to them on horseback
After echoes of Halloween horrors
Roamed through their haunted village
Screeching like a witch aboard a broom
Jetting through their eerie nights
Sprinkling dread melancholy on their wretched souls

The children of man desecrated the land
Shitting sacrilege on graves of the old spirit gods
And staked the daughter of the old spirit mother
And with firewood from the tired enchanted forest
They wrought their own doom; building huge bonfire
And burning to ashes, the fatherless spirit child

An owl perched on a gravestone
under a nearby withered willow
cried out, woe, woe… woe betide the children of man
they have killed a spirit child from the old gods.
Death will come on horseback

The screams of the spirit child rained blood tears upon the cornfields
And from her ashes after the fire, a witch’s wizard arose in wrath
Conjuring dark magic of the old religion,
The witch’s wizard summoned out of the bleeding cornfields
A far forgotten nightmare gatherer
A ghostly reaper with bony skin cloaked in smoky shadow

The creature appeared on a wraithlike horseback out of dark mist
And at the edge of the ragged village, the creature dismounted;
Unhurriedly walking in and dragging behind its smoky self
A monstrous rusty sickle stained with leftover blood of ancient transgressors.

The children of man scattered into the empty wind
Crying woe... woe…. Woe be us
Our death has come to us on horseback

From his shadowy self the creature unleashed
A hornet locust to knock on every door and sting.
There where the children of man screamed in agony
On that field the creature went swinging his sickle
Reaping both the ripe and the untried souls.
There where the children of man mum their agony
Fire did the creature set to that field scaring them out like roaches
To savor the unkind throes served by the old spirit gods

The creature went through one threshold into another
Swinging his sickle and reaping their doomed souls
Until the village became a grave-less cemetery
An unhallowed field for unhallowed souls.

An owl perched on a gravestone
under a nearby withered willow
cried out, woe, woe… woe be the children of man
they have killed a spirit child from the old gods.
Death has come on horseback

For after echoes of their misdeed quieted
Their death did come to them on horseback.