I hear 16 hoof beats coming in my direction.
12 of them I ignore, but four I focus on.
Wondering if should not oppose the the swing of the scythe.
I will be taken by that instrument one day, but now?
Now, when I feel no hope inside of the blackness I am in.
I am tempted to go with those four hoof beats.
The four hoof beats are coming closer, closer, closer.
Inside the blackness of my hopelessness, I await.
I feel the four hoof beats upon me.
I feel the scythe swinging toward me.
Then I step back in hope.
And hear the fading hoof beats galloping on.
Things may be black, but not totally.
So I am happy to have stepped back this time.
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