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Verse as hooves, grinding on the planes

In the distance, a Kevalier

Burning breath, spear in harvest rains

Bow string cut from feet and arrows spiked

Measures of a simple man

Halt the word as poison fruits do ripe

As the reptile under the sun

He rode on

Torches written for nights

Igniter of eldest light

Halt the word as poison fruits do ripe

A strike away from truth

In the gardens of a nameless tribe

What if the steed is destined to endure the rains

A rust-converted lore back on the path

A corruptive fire has been laid