"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

30 October 2024

Best.


He rides his black steed through the countryside
And whenever he stops a mortal man dies.

He’s the Angel of Death and worthy of dread;
Dressed all in black and lacking a head.

In his left hand is a spine that he’ll use as a whip;
In his right hand a scythe that will cut to the quick.

He rides his black steed through the countryside
If you chance to observe him you may be struck blind
And still think yourself lucky that he left you behind.

If he pulls on the reins and he finds you outdoors
Your heart will stop dead and will beat nevermore.

There are buckets of blood where the Dullahan rides.
On all Hallows Eve you had best be inside.

John F. McCullagh

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