Four Horsemen

the thundering hooves...
the four horsemen come,
death and destruction,

the bed we've made.
the hollowed out chime,
the last clock on earth...

destiny beckons,
with hands torn and bruised.
the wave roars as if sudden,

a long time ingrained!
even the bodies whisper,
as if friends or family.

while the scavengers wait
at the foot of the grave.
the voice of God silent,

disgusted, and cold...
and the mother weeps
for the children unborn!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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