Pale Rider Poem by Tobbie WhiteBird Crowe

He beckons me with silent call,
He waits behind each corner.
He bids me now to go with him
To live in a tall black tower.

He stands alone with quiet smile
And patiently waits for me.
He holds the golden silver key
That an iron cold gate will open.

He reaches out a chill white hand
And nearer I am drawn.
His pale thin horse crops silently,
Before the long dark ride.

His touch can turn a heart to ice.
Turn brave men into cowards.
The world fears him above all else
But there's kinship in his eyes.

He brings the peaceful, painless sleep,
The end of all men's problems.
He asked no price for endless night
But for else to ride forever.

(1986)