The White Horseman

In his eleventh-hour
Heaven hands him his last desire
Eager to be rid of this beautiful disaster
Accepting his fate with joyful gallant
He tears open that invite
And what does he find?
A whimsical gold carousel
Humble in its pride
Illuminating peace, as the sun stood bright.

His sparkling spirit was soon called upon, so
He promptly made his choice with great delight
And triumphantly hopped on
That alabaster strewn white horse,
Tipped his hat and waved farewell
While igniting his eternal life course
Closed his eyes and counted 1-2-3
And just like that, ascended in silent revelry
For he had finally been granted his sweet divinity.