With His Six Shooter In Hand He Emptied Its Load
With His Six Shooter In Hand He Emptied Its Load
In a whiskey glazed stupor his horse he shot
Under blue-wailing moon his heart, a broken mess
And then his emotions tossed in their sad lot
Somewhere with lost hope, his failures he did confess
But as image appears, her beautiful face smiles
She, kind goddess that had stolen his lonely heart
Over and over, the argument -always starts
And then the swarms of excruciating deep pains
Fight to make it leave, his eyes look to the blue sky
Silently these words he says, "My Lord help me please"
Falling to dusty ground, he asks again the why
Did God allow that beautiful witch his heart seize
Then romantic thoughts flooded a confused brain
Her dear vision so enticed and refused to leave
It all was far too much, far too great a love-strain
Next how she had him, ready to again deceive!
But oh no, not again, his intellect then spoke
Do not let this dark, deceptive thing again hurt
Recall this truth, she had made his life a bad joke
Remember torture, the loss, her poison black spurts
And how she laughed as his tender heart she broke!
The cowboy then rose on up from the desert sand.
Swearing true, she and this are both accursed land!
Mounting his horse towards Tombstone onward he rode
Swearing, never let his wounded heart be "stoled"!
Then a broad smile so magically it appeared
Up the trail just head vision of her as he feared!
With his six shooter in hand, he emptied its load
And laughed out loud, as on
to Tombstone he rode!
Robert J. Lindley, Rhyme/Narrative
April 12th 1982
Note: Edit.. Nov 21st 1983
The young cowboy made it all the way to Tombstone
His young life was then about to meet pretty girl
She too was standing proudly there and all alone
Fate decreed it, they joined to give life a whirl!
|