Cavalcade

Up first, the worst; in most every sense…
An orphan of fate rides in on pretense.

Then second, I reckon, on red horse rides…
Bully & fighter; the line between sides.

The third, I’ve heard, enters selling meat pies…
Weighing his profits; whilst swatting at flies.

The fourth, called forth, needs no introduction…
On his pale pony swinging destruction.

At last, & fast, comes the end’s sweet relief…
These old mythic stories beggar belief.