The 5th Horseman

No thundering hooves follow my tracks
It is not the Four Riders that come in my wake,
but their creatures

No bloody War
No insistent Pestilence
No heartbreaking Famine
or sweet claws of Death

It is the Fifth that follows me-
the invisible Hounds of Hell

They catch my scent time and again,
chuffing at my heels
Ever driving me forward,
flushing me into a pathless forest

I cannot shake them
Despair, Depression
Their nostrils erupt with cold, night air
I can feel their breath next to my ear
when I sleep

Even in the silence of a clear day,
the distant baying echoes in the recesses,
reverberating in my mind-
I am never alone

From the desert and mountains,
to the sweet rolling hills of the south,
to the rainy torrents of the distant sea,
they come again and again,
the relentless pursuers of nightfall

Salvation cannot find me on the run
There is no light inside the forest

I must turn,
seek out the invisible forms
and cry for battle
I must defeat them, or forever be hounded,
forever be hunted

They are wearing me down,
the padding of feet grow near
It is only a matter of time before I stumble
and waiting jaws swallow my throat

My heart is beating frantically,
even as I crouch in waiting
I know they can hear the erratic tattoo

They have followed me so far,
to each corner of the world
Tainting every joy with the shadow of their prescence
Contentment is never completely mine;
nothing has relieved me of their burden

I am marked
The Fifth awaits-
the Hounds will catch me again

Comments

  1. FridayNovember 20, 2009 at 10:59 AM

    Q: "The hounds of hell, darling?"

    Me: "The hounds mean depression. I wrote a poem about them."

    Q: "Can't you just picture them as pomeranians??"

    ReplyDelete
  2. ValkyrjaNovember 20, 2009 at 6:02 PM

    I understand what this poem is about, for reals, but I could not help thinking about Berserk the whole time. In a good way. :-)

    ReplyDelete

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