He is the air, the empty space Between the gallows and the ground, The shout of ecstasy and pain When life meets death and wisdom's Found He's in the battle cries, the yell Of frenzied fighting; then the breeze That cools the corpses where they fell To which the ravens swoop to feed He is the ravage of the storm, He is a blast of bitter wind The icy gusts of winter gales That tear apart, and scour the skin The leader of the ghastly host- Grim riders racing through the sky Grey horses ride the frost And chill the heart as they pass by