The most famous ghost that sits on a horse
is the headless horseman from old folklore,
but he isn’t the only one I know to exist
for I’ve seen with my eyes ‘the Horseman in Mist’.
I drank at a local bar, an autumn night after dark,
I had some time to blow before walking the park.
I spent my nights there playing pool, having talks.
Oh who do I kid? I was drinking on rocks.
My friend Jason tried to warn me his way
from walking the park on that very day.
He said it was haunted on nights such at that,
but I blew the man off and threw on my hat.
I wandered the path through the old wooded park
and noticed the moon stayed away so it got pretty dark.
I tried to keep walking, thinking how the land laid,
and I followed a path, figuring out the right way.
Then the moon popped back out,
and a clearing formed there,
and I saw a black rider
with long silver hair.
I stopped and I stood there, the fog of my breath
puffing clouds of uncertainty this way and that.
But the rider himself stood on horse hooves in mist
the specter holding a saber with a skeleton’s wrist.
Turning and running was all I could do
from the ghost of the horseman in mist then I flew
but try as I might, the mist wrapped around tight
and the horse’s cold breath felt like dark of the night.
Out of the park I ran with a sprint,
and found lit street lamps, paved roads, and steel’s glint.
So I let out a sigh and turned to look back
there he was, riding there: the horseman in black.
He locked eyes with me
and I saw his pale face
then he turned with his horse
and drifted out of that place.
I wondered if the drink rattled my brain,
or the walk gave me some kind of pain.
I tried to rationalize it as best as I could,
but I’ll tell you the truth: since then, I avoid the woods.
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