Sadness crept around a fool
No man much less a fighter.
Though through a storm of curtain crashes
The man he saw this rider.
A dark and hairy older grim
Whose limbs were loose but tighter,
Then every bolt that built his bike
Where sat this ghostly rider.
The fool that wept began to drown
In fear much worse and whiter,
Then any dark he'd swam before
For there had been no Rider.
The muscled engine roared like lions
And burned like flame but brighter,
Above around and in the soul
Of this taking midnight Rider.
And so without a claim or writ
No deed from judge or writer
The taker took the guilty git
And made a new sin rider.
Away and gone is day and night
Where host and guest are blighters
For nothing run can be undone.
When the sum is found by Riders.
