Steam pulsating out of the nostrils of his steed,
The man at night does do his deed;
Crying faithfully in to the night,
“They’re on their way!”
“They’re on their way!”
The ringing of the stirrups, the jangle of the bit,
Chomping, salivating, neighing ~
Nigh.
Harder, faster!
He rides.
A cloak of fog, hoof beating the earth;
Heart pounding and night sweats wake the whole town.
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