Chargement...

Gun Smoke

A man alone, save silver law
Pockmarked by all the things he saw;
Lingering ghosts in dead set eyes,
Never a tear, these men don’t cry.
 
Quiet here, out on the trail,
Each footstep’s one closer to hell.
But everyone meets death sometime
Waiting just beyond the horizon line.
 
The sunset’s red like anger
Deeper still, there’s much more there,
Beauty ever beyond this Earth, the sky has its fair share
Of gold, that tempter of the soul;
It’s fleeting, but it fills a hole.
 
Put aside all else for a moment, then
And revel in what you may never see again
Riding on towards another fight,
Held fast by gun smoke and transient light.

Préféré par...
Autres oeuvres par Silverfish...



Top