Ablaze with prophecy, flames fed with oil or
petrol: pages devoted to fevered visions
of the end of days that I read with a flashlight,
covertly, after bedtime. How was I to tell
a beast from an angel, a beast from a man?
Lamps and temples, the sky’s invisible seal
yawning open; the terrible thunder of hooves.
Pity and penance too late— And sleep?
Sleep could be the shadow riding shotgun,
emissary of that fourth dark rider.
[LAG-other-response date=”02 28 2013″ url=”https://www.vianegativa.us/2013/02/four-horsemen/” title=”Via Negativa: Four Horsemen”]