War, The Crimson Rider Poem by Tim Vallie

Plumes of smoke reach like fingers toward the sky
The fiery hand of war descends upon the town
Screams of pain echo, asking “Why lord, why? ”
As the enemy does swiftly ride them down
War, the Bloody Horseman, has come into the fray
One of four who serve as means to the end
The Horsemen Four have entered into our play
The most dark and horrible god-send
War, the Crimson Rider, urged on by blood-lust
Brings his slaughter forth from town to town
War, the Undefeated, who lays men down with ever thrust
Has come to burn our world down to the ground