Riders of the Light

We ride out at once,
To purge and strike

Those shadows from the walls
Out of every hearth and banner

Pale minions of the Dark Arts
Shall know our hand,

A cavalry of swords, forged from golden dawns
Shining overhead,

Shields of Daybreak, with
Sun-crests burning.

When we smite them with sleight of hand
A flick of the wrist, with infinite gleam

Pillars from the heavens
On their fragile souls

The dust that is left,
Is but the last breaths of regret

They admit their deeds, and are cleansed.
The light will take them all.

"For the honour of all," we say,
"And the glory of the Light."