Riders from the Past

Rhymed poetry, some of the best I have written. See if your sins are chasing you.

Give ear to the horses
The riders from the past,
As your quiet moments rest,
You'll see your mettle cast.

Out the window of days gone by
you challenge the shimmering heat,
And guard against what comes,
With dust in its teeth.

Riding favorite emps,
named and without the meek.
Like the sins from many yesterdays,
secrets you'll never speak.

Splashing through the streams of childhood,
they reach your selfish youth.
And in the timber of manhood,
they drag along the truth.

Laughter echoes down the canyon,
closer than ever before.
Your aging flesh the proof
a soul from you be tore.

On your last sick journey,
they'll track you in the snow.
And finally reach your resting place,
with faces black as coal.