The Black Horse of Trois-Pistoles

### Cheval Noir de Trois Pistoles In the dead of night, beneath the moon's cruel gaze, A specter stirs, from ancient graves, Born of darkness, from the abyss he rides, The Cheval Noir, in shadows he hides. His eyes are fire, burning through the veil, A harbinger of death, a legend's tale, With hooves of thunder, he tears through the night, An omen of doom, an endless fight. Chorus: Cheval Noir, from Trois Pistoles' land, Bringer of sorrow, darkness at his command, In the midnight hour, the end begins, Cheval Noir, the harbinger of sins. In the whispering winds, his terror spreads, A curse upon the land, where innocents bled, From the cursed past, to the present's dread, The Cheval Noir, where angels fear to tread. Beneath the blackened sky, his shadows dance, A wraith of vengeance, in a fiendish trance, No prayer can save, no light can chase, The Cheval Noir, with a demon's face. (Chorus) Bridge: Echoes of despair, through the haunted trees, The land of Trois Pistoles brought to its knees, A kingdom of night, under his reign, The Cheval Noir, inflicting endless pain. As the dawn breaks, he fades from sight, But the terror remains, the eternal night, For when darkness falls, and the moon is high, The Cheval Noir will again arise. (Chorus)