"The Rider" by Lee Daniel Guest

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Olarov and the Rider
by Lee Daniel Guest


The moon, once bright and high in the sky,
Began to shake and sink;

The wolves grew silent, the great bears shook,
And Olarov dared not blink.

On his trail for weeks and months,
The spectral rider followed;

Olarov saw him closer now,
And in his fear he wallowed.

The once-distant struggle before him now,
Olarov raised his sword,

Crashing blows rained through the night,
Strumming a mighty chord.

At daybreak Olarov longed for the sun,
And looked to see it high;

But blood clouded his vision now,
And blotted out the sky.

One problem troubled Olarov’s thoughts,
With no solution; though he tried,

Though the Rider had given no defense,
It was Olarov who had died.

Poem and artwork copyright 2002 by Lee Daniel Guest ldguest@btinternet.com

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