Leaning on a sliver stallion,
staring at the receding sun,
Prepared to face that ghost battalion,
That long ago has left me numb,
Each second seems to stay a year,
But flees for fright my coming fears,
And leaves me in the dark alone,
To watch and wait for what I've known
To come, to take me, they haven't yet,
But everytime I see the hint of a shadow, I'm reminded. They won't forget