The black night sky is brighter than those hooves and legs,
and he cannot melt into the darkness.
That night, we were sitting by the campfire,
A dark horse broke into our sight.
I can’t remember anything being darker.
His kicks are as black as coal, and as dark as night
Or emptiness, all black from the mane to the ponytail.
But there was another kind of darkness on his unsaddled back.
He stood motionless and looked like he was asleep.
The darkness on his hooves was alluring.
He is completely black and unaware of shadows.
This darkness can no longer be restored.
So dark, like midnight darkness.
So dark, as if it were dark inside the needle.
So dark, like the trees looming in front of him.
Just like the seed cellar hidden deep under the ground,
Just like the hollow chest between the ribs.
I thought: The inside of our bodies is pitch black.
Yet He still stands in our present darkness!
It was still midnight on the clock dial.
He didn't take a step toward us.
There was an unpredictable darkness in his belly.
His back has disappeared from sight.
Not a single trace of the bright spots was left.
His eyes flashed white, like a bolt of lightning.
The pupils were even more terrifyingly calm.
He looked like someone's negative.
Why does he stop in the forward step?
Stand between us until the next day?
Why does he still stay by the campfire?
Why does it breathe black air at us
And rustle as if it is crushing branches under its feet?
Why is there a black light coming from his eyes?
He is looking for a rider, among us.
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