Ride oh hidden warrior into the darkest depths,
into nights where not even the moon shines
and the successive click-clock of the horse's galloping hoofs
take you away from sorrows left behind.
I say, hidden warrior, spring forth cries of freedom,
weep through songs of sacred joy;
but never, ever look back.
Be not distracted by paths overgrown
and littered with salt pillars
now set as sundials to remind you
how few true hours remain
in what fated days you've left.
Yet, if the gods do in fact decide with favor
of your paltry and trite life,
remember evermore what goodness fills
your sustenance of plight.