The White Horse Of Pestilence

Beasts of the earth have broken the seal
Summoning the harbingers of death
And they gather to contemplate
How the earth shall be beset
Their steeds are wild, they paw the dirt
And stamp their hooves impatiently
Plague, war, paucity
Death unleashed on humanity

The air they breathe shall rot them
From the inside out
And as they drown in pus
Cankerous sores from skin erupt

Hark! Do you hear the thunderous roar?
The sound of a hundred battalions, or even more
The darkened sky is ruptured
And from the fissure, a mighty horse
Galloping upon the wind
Descending unto the soil

The white horse of pestilence
Its rider bends his bow
With poisoned arrows
The white horse of pestilence
Drawn from a quiver on his back
Full with the germs of all disease

Plague spreads across the land
Left to decay, even the wise ones cannot escape
And the heroic intensely afraid
Contamination is at hand
Felling even the strongest where they stand

And while the pious believe
They are cursed by God
The rider cares not, in truth
For whom his sight shall fall upon

Hark! Do you hear the thunderous roar?
The sound of a hundred battalions, or the first of four

The white horse of pestilence
Its rider bends his bow
With poisoned arrows
The white horse of pestilence
Drawn from a quiver on his back
Full with the germs of all disease

The germs of all disease
And the white horse of pestilence