The banners rose, the sun ran red,
Iron prayers were spoken then,
Hooves on stone, no word was said—
The dark came riding in again.
The wind fell still, the crows took wing,
Shadows stretched across the plain,
No horn was blown, no bells would ring,
Only silence knew his name.
They say the night still knows his tread,
They say the dawn still fears his blade.
He rode where dawn was torn away,
Where light learned how to die,
Steel drank fire, the river stayed,
And stars went dark in the sky.
Oh turn your eyes, bar the flame,
Say no prayers, speak no name—
For where he rides, the world has learned:
The sun does not return.
They stood as one by river’s bend,
Field and forest, veil and sand,
But even hope will break and bend
When shadow walks as man.
Blades rang out till night grew thin,
Blood turned gold beneath first light,
One stood fast, one fell within—
And dawn was swallowed by the fight.
Was he a man, or crown-made sin?
A heart in chains, a soul in flame?
Some say he wept beneath the helm,
Some say the fire ate his name.
He rode where dawn was torn away,
Not for throne nor crown nor claim,
Through burning sky, through end of days,
He vanished into flame.
If thunder walks and shadows stay,
If night feels longer than before—
Pray he passes far away,
For where he rides… there is no dawn anymore.
So hush the fire, dim the light,
Let the storm roll on unseen,
For the Rider walks the night—
And dawn remembers where he’s been.
