Under shroud of sickly moon lite rides.beneath sodden cloak and leather.Under pelting rain .

Over barrren beaten pathway.over polished cobble.rides. eyes a glimmer in the gloaming. Rides.
He
The my way or the highway man
Aboard a wooden steed.The hollows clatter in his soul
Bears witness
To his folly.  
So forward ever
Backward
Never