The Pale Horse


To corner you round a blind alley,

It gallops and blows the sand.

To fog your brain and your eyes,

From the sparkles of this land.

When this Mustang of death arrives,

It brings along a cloud of mist.

It will take you whatever you say,

However hard you insist.

To take you where you came from,

Where the actual life retains,

To prove that when it turns up,

No one dare detains!

©2012 Habiba Danyal.

Re-blogging this post for Trifecta’s week 31 challenge.

This week’s word is:

ALLEY (noun)

1: a garden or park walk bordered by trees or bushes

2a (1) : a grassed enclosure for bowling or skittles (2) : a hardwood lane for bowling; also : a room or building housing a group of such lanes  b : the space on each side of a tennis doubles court between the sideline and the service sidelinec : an area in a baseball outfield between two outfielders when they are in normal positions

3: a narrow street; especially : a thoroughfare through the middle of a block giving access to the rear of lots or buildings
P.S. wrote this poem way back in grade 8th!

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26 thoughts on “The Pale Horse

  1. Thanks for linking up with Trifecta this week. I think your Mustang of death will probably give me nightmares tonight. 🙂 I like how you took this dark, like many of our other submissions this week, but still made it feel fresh and original. Great job.

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