The Pale Rider

At first, his sight ceased

Then his hearing was no more

Darkness fell

Silence reign

No longer could he feel anything

Alone, lost, empty

The darkness was too loud

And the silence too bright

His humanity went astray

As his sanity and ability to think

But soon the monotony of nothing was broke

As a little stomping sound materialised

The sound grew

Killing the buzzing

The deafening buzz of silence

And the sound came closer and closer

A figure as small as an ant came to be

Breaking the integrity of the darkness

And it kept approaching him

And as the distance reduced it self the figure was now understandable

A horse

A pale horse

Either green or yellow

But pale

A rider

Tall and fair

Dressed in long robes

Carrying a weapon

As tall as the rider

A scythe of bone

With a rusted blade

A scythe of death

Smiling the rider lashed towards him

Scythe in hand

Ready to reap

Killing to kill

Gaming momentum

Gaining speed

Raising his hand

Raising his weapon

Life was no more

Life came and went

The afterlife was near

As death approached

The two colliding

And the darkness disappeared

The rider, Death

The deceased

Vanished

All the clash made everything

Reach the end

The final destination