they rode on through that endless night
as if threatened by some hectoring planet
circled by its angry fools for moons
they wore blue and gold hearts
targets for black angels and bled out fire on the snow such that the devil
could plot their progress as pilgrims from the sky like a drone
even history could not distinguish their assassins as men
from the 4 horses on which they galloped
some bade the earth adieu with battered pauldrons decorating the snows
their sorrowed bodies swallowed up in grief
but it is not to be thought they died in vain
a blue and gold thread laced the snow
Flynnpoetry 