"THE RIDER"


 He'll ride In the morning, through the day 
 Travels the road,

 High upon the hills, a shadow beneath the clouds, 
  He rides.

  Into the wind, the rain blowing against his face, 
  He rides,

  The  snow falls as through the mountain passes 
  He is moving.

  A man with no name, throughout the land, maybe
  A glimpse,

  He's known only as the rider, carrying whatever 
  For hire.

  This horse he rides, with colors of solid black and 
  White spots,

  A demon creature, wicked with speed like the wind.


  Brown and black hat worn on his head gives a 
  Mysterious appearance,

  A coat so long for cover and warmth shields him from 
  Weather, the rider.

  Boots on his feet of dark, broken In pattern, can be 
  Noticed in the stirrups,

  This man of the land rides and rides just he and his 
  Faithful companionion.

  Like a ghost so quiet he roams the wild wilderness of life,

  He's known as the rider, Into the night he rides.


                          Keith Garrett