Dressed in white the rider stood, with bow and arrow in hand
His influence had spread throughout the sea and cross the land.
His name was Makarioa, a proud and noble thing
One that meant the opposite of what his life did bring.
Pestilence was his title, his bow his office symbol
One that made the mightiest shake in fear and tremble.
But this man was never cruel, but kind and sweet and caring
He was the go-to man for fixing and for mending
His bright green eyes and soft white hair which tumbled to his waist
Were signs of just how old he was and why he never made haste.
This man I have described to you is one of the 4 riders
A powerful man, a kind man, a wonderful provider.
His influence had spread throughout the sea and cross the land.
His name was Makarioa, a proud and noble thing
One that meant the opposite of what his life did bring.
Pestilence was his title, his bow his office symbol
One that made the mightiest shake in fear and tremble.
But this man was never cruel, but kind and sweet and caring
He was the go-to man for fixing and for mending
His bright green eyes and soft white hair which tumbled to his waist
Were signs of just how old he was and why he never made haste.
This man I have described to you is one of the 4 riders
A powerful man, a kind man, a wonderful provider.
