I don't think of a horseman often,
But a steady clop-clop-clop-clop-clop,
Like shod feet on cobblestone,
Prompts me to turn my head.
Oh! A shining man on a shining horse
Leading a herd of runners--
Efficacious power, stomping and crushing
And people clamoring to the surface,
To freedom from underground living.
The sod's been broken,
And people once desolate glow and listen,
To the thundering hooves of the Horseman, the Horses,
Crossing the rise with much more to do.
Submitted by: Naimah on 07/09/2015
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Tagged with: Voice of Muse