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// There Were Six Not Four 
// Story: anthology of sadness and other stuff 
// by ponyartist 
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Six Horses From Hell


There were six horses from Hell,
sent by the sun and the moon.
To usurp my throne 
with harmony.
The first one was the color of the violet twilight.
With the power to control
the vary threads of matter.
The second had silky fur
and a silver tongue,
with a pair of seductive eyes to match.
The third was swift enough to break white light, 
but it was her over confidence
that always clipped her wings.
The fourth was shy and soft of word.
With a caring heart,
but had a stare that could break stone
and maybe even me.
The fifth whose strength was matched
only by her honest words.
She could shape the earth itself 
and turn brown to green.
The sixth was my favourite,
one of laughter
and unstable mind.
Whose sunny disposition
could give way to stormy clouds
at the poop of a balloon.
To many these six are heroes
in tune with harmony,
but to me
they are
discourse.