Black Horses

Boy, you hit us hard
With sounds we had heard before
The ringing of a phone
The knocking of a door
The gentle voice of a daughter
In her mother's ear
Who knew those tones of monotony
Would ride on black horses through the air
The horses trampled our souls
And like the leaves we drift away
Clinging to fragrant memories
That lose their scent everyday
All the pictures we've scattered
On kitchen tables and creaky floors
Once earned a simple smile
Now they deserve so much more
All the tears the steeds carried
And left upon our laps
Our clothes are wet and heavy
Each thought, a silent collapse
And now the horses have gone on
But their cloud of dust still remains
Forever stinging our eyes
This world will never look the same
The stealthy beasts of death
Left their mark at our door
Will we ever venture past it
Or is it in Hell where we are cursed to mourn