The Rustling of the Wind

The Hounds of Hell dispel the rustling of the winds
        True love will never win if it was left to him
                 To life and fate with out faith
 
There horses are lined up and ready at the gate
        As autumn leaves twirl about their mounts
              Feet pace out loves door; and then one runs through
                     
The blacken skies shout die, die and accept defeat
        Death rides upon his blood red horse, as he beats him near to death
              Spilling passions and their wants
                           
At twilight time he cackles you'll both be mine
        Jack O' Lanterns and black cats imaginations
              Are but his dreams or so it seems
                               
This broken hearted rider is beheaded
         Dreading the rustling of these leaves, on the autumn winds
               Trying to remember his lover and their sins
                              
Stolen pleasures and romantic treasures 
         Comes the severs' of their heads
                 A disenchanted swordsman leaves the scene
                               
With crystals in his eyes he mutters why?
         As he pauses at the door, his crimson covered blade drips droplets of his rage
                He could not be swayed to let true love endure; so planted his foot he did
                             
In the autumn night the swordsman cringed 
          At the sliding of the ice and that final slice
                 The last thing heard he, was the rustling of the wind 
                             
Mirrors of this deed about his fallen head
         The last thing seen by he; the reflective scenes of the lovers dead
                 The last thing heard by none the rustling of the wind
                                                               
                                                                    by 
                                                  Sinbad the Sailor Man