Desperado Part I
Poem By Chris Purser
Night falls early on the western plain,
A soft wind rustles the ash trees leaves,
Down in the graveyard a widow grieves,
And out of the west comes a soft rain.
In the street he stood, the wanted man,
Six bodies lie in the shallow ground,
Finally one last one ready to go down,
The desperado starred, gun in hand.
Eight came, and half past when he strolled out,
A young sherif ready to face the test,
Wanted man he hoped to put to rest,
The rules were told plainly with a shout.
Five paces taken then both turned,
For a moment it seemed they were off,
Then he dropped his pistol and stepped down,
The desperado got what he earned.
Set down to rest in an unmarked grave,
Free from sleepless nights the towns folk slept,
Then deep in the darkness something crept,
And a dead man's heart began to rave...