Envoys have been sent out into the night,
rider to rider, with no end in sight.
They turn one to the other,
brother to brother, the riders of the night.
They come from a land of war,
a land of poverty and blight.
With no instruments to guide them,
they fly by lunar light.
In a field of ghosts, they close their eyes.
But find no rest amid the cries.
And so they move on further into the night,
rider to rider, with no end in sight.
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