The four Horsemen of the Apocalypse

As a hurricane of blind hate they ride through fields,
Like roaring thunder they shake the earth.
They don't pity the one who yields,
For there will be no place for any mirth.

Blazing anger spreads throughout the world,
Wherever they go no-one is safe.
As an unleased vortex mortals will get swirled,
Crushing down on them like a monstrous wave.

The first rider feeds desperate places,
His white coat brings false hope.
For him peace has two faces,
Strife that ends hanging on a bloody rope.

The second rider brings carnage like a mad hound,
His red eyes filled with burning desire,
Dire screams when the trumpets sound,
War that ends deep in a sinister mire.

The third rider never felt any mourn,
His black soul laughs when others slowly decay,
People wishing that they were never born,
Famine that ends in an uncontrolled dismay.

The forth rider is poisoned with wrath,
His pale skin breaks every heart filled with fear.
Corpses laying on his traveled path,
Death that ends in a timeless tear.

May luck be turned into adversity,
May hope end in certain despair.
May unity finish in massive diversity,
May justice result in violent blair.

Behold the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,
Raging forth from the dark abyss,
Their unblessed souls will cover the world in an eclipse.
The Antichrist for them the only bliss.