Twelve silver horses stand around my bed,
With curtains of the deepest red.
I look around and then I see,
Eleven remain of the silver steeds.
Wondering where one horse went,
I followed tracks that through the snow were rent.
Wading through the deep'ning drifts,
I hoped it wouldn't end like this.
Eleven silver horses stand round my bed,
With curtains of the deepest red.
I look around and then I see,
Ten remain of those silver steeds.
Soon winter was pushed out by spring,
And an alarm in my brain did ring.
The tracks had ploughed through winter snow;
What would happen, where would I go?
Ten silver horses stand around my bed,
With curtains of the deepest red.
I look around and then I see,
Eight remain of those silver steeds.
Casting around mine eyes did find,
That everything would be just fine.
Though snows had gone as winter came,
Hoof prints shone like silver manes.
Eight silver horses stand around my bed,
With curtains of the deepest red.
I look around and then I see,
Five remain of those silver steeds.
Summer burned away the spring,
And made me wonder what gifts it'd bring.
I followed shining tracks all night,
I ran and hoped with all my might.
Five silver horses stand around my bed,
With curtains of the deepest red.
I look around and then I see,
Three remain of those silver steeds.
Summer pushed away by fall,
I felt that I have seen it all.
My journey wasn't at an end,
But I felt it would be, around that bend.
Three silver horses stand around my bed,
With curtains of the deepest red.
I look around and then I see,
Two remain of those silver steeds.
Fall finally succumbed to winter's winds,
And gave me a retelling of where I'd been.
The snows stretched ahead, all glistening white;
Hoof prints were gone, but I knew it was right.
Two silver horses stand around my bed,
With curtains of the deepest red.
I look around and then I see,
One remains of those silver steeds.
In the sparkling snow ahead I saw,
A house with a door like a yawning maw.
Walking through the door I thought I'd see,
Twelve silver steeds staring back at me.
One silver horse stands beside my bed,
With curtains of the deepest red.
I look around and then I see,
That none remain of those silver steeds.
Twelve muzzles sniff me,
Twelve silver tails swish.
They usher me towards
The end.
Twelve silver horses stand round my bed,
With curtains of the deepest red.
I look around and then I see,
How they'd watched and guided me.
A/N: Just a random poem I wrote, and I don't write many poems. ^_~ Got the idea while showering, of all places. I don't really know how, it just was there. Tell me what you think! In my mind the horses were guiding the narrator from birth to death, leaving one by one so the trail would never fade. Don't ask why twelve, it just felt right. I also gave this a little tune, but even if I could upload music onto this site I wouldn't. ^_~ Hehe.