The Dust, An Original Western Poem©

Written by American Author Sky Taylor

The Dust, Death Seeks Justice

Illuminating from the dust of the desert storm,

A rider so lean, he was skeletal in form.

A tall, white hat rested on the battered scarred skull,

A star on his chest, anchored above the empty hull.

Chaps clung to bones outlining once-lean hips,

A rolled cigarette dangled from once-parched lips.

Seeking justice, leading his dark horse to the west,

Over the flat barren earth, then over the crest.

To the north searching for flesh, buzzards soared,

But the rider feared not, a skeleton to the core.

To the south, a duel was sought by the sidewinder,

But the rider ignored, determined to find her.

To the east, the ghost town shimmered through the dust,

A cave of rotting wood, and iron turned to rust.

The building he sought bled clearly into sight,

As the rider thought back to that once-forgotten night.

When a friend of a friend took the life of his lady fair,

Jealously spun a bullet into her chest, part of the dare.

But his fair lady, he did not seek.

For she lay with him within the deep.

It was the friend of a friend the rider sought,

To avenge two deaths that had been for naught.

The crowd in the saloon dispersed in a blink,

As the friend's friend downed his last drink.

In a blink of an eye, the rider secured his prey,

Stowed him on his horse to ride back that day.

The keys to hell, the rider held tight in his hand,

And would send the friend's friend to no-man's land.

You can successfully cross most anyone in a bar,

But beware of a dead man who wears the star.

For he will rise up out of the dust of hell,

And lock you away in his eternal jail.

 

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