Looking for the Four Horsemen

**~*Mz.Chievous*~** · June 14th, 2002, 10:15 AM

I had a dream a few nights ago....

I was sitting at my office at work reading the list of things i had to do for the day...And I notices that all over my desk were scattered taro cards...and on one of them was a pic of the Four Horsemen

(behind them the sky and clouds were on fire...they were in detailed chariots...and in front of them ...the earth was dying... blood was in the water...the plants had been eaten and started to wilt...under the foot of one horse were crushed bones...)

I picked up the card and handed it to my boss and he died on the spot...

so now I am looking for a pic like in my dream.....so can any one help ??

**~*Mz.Chievous*~** · June 15th, 2002, 10:54 AM

Thank you Belle...

I have a found a few that are a little close...just have to down size them

**The Lady Belle** · June 15th, 2002, 03:03 PM

Ive been searching all morning for that pic that you described but alas I couldnt even find anything close it..

Maybe you'll have to become a computer graphic artist and make the pic up yourself then..

*rubs eyes*..Im logging off because I havent been wearing my glasses and Ive been staring at this computer for nearly 4 hours now..my poor eyes are aching.. [img]frown.gif[/img]

**stingger** · June 16th, 2002, 10:36 PM

Any chance of seeing the pics or any links ??

**~*Mz.Chievous*~** · June 18th, 2002, 08:04 AM

I found this little poem, but having troble getting the pics up *grumbles under her breath*

The Rising

I hear the distant rumblings
From sounds of the sacrilegious winds
In the echoes of the thunderous rolls
As a seed in the womb of my soul.

The clouds they build and build,
And the storm it shrieks and shrills,
As creatures of my nightmares scream
To emerge and invade my dreams.

And beyond the gates of Hell,
Accompanying the storm and swell,
Rising from the graves of the damned,
Awash with blood of the Ram.

They rose, the Horsemen four,
Led by the crimson War.
Then came Pestilence and Famine.
The pale-white Death entailing.

Through the trails of the apocalyptic hounds
Pass the wailing banshees' bounds.
From the abyss of eternal pain
Into my world grappling in sane.

The vapors from the cursed breath
Of the condemned who never rests.
And the fumes from decaying flesh
Festering in Satanic mesh.

The stench of the putrid corpses
Over the mass eclipses,
As the foul frenetic followers
Cower in the ethereal cover.

Swept by the winds of Armageddon
They rode with arrogant abandon.
They came the Four and the millions -
The Horsemen and their minions.