Post by Lunar Knite on Dec 8, 2009 23:06:32 GMT -5
Back to back they stand under the high sun.
They count now. One. A step forward they take.
Two. Again, as hands find his holstered gun.
Three. Veterans, air they calmly intake.
By the fourth second, they both turn around.
Drawings their weapons with such speed, they shoot.
In the fifth, passers-by dive to the ground.
They know only death can solve their dispute.
They miss. Bullets dart cleanly through the air,
Flying death so close to taking their lives.
They begin to wonder, why are they there?
The sheriff who has had multiple wives,
And the outlaw, whose fault was affection.
He may have stolen and he may have killed,
But that caused no fear, for she was smitten—
The sheriff never made her so fulfilled.
At last, when the sixth second came along,
And bullets lodge themselves in arms and legs
The two regretted what they had done wrong:
The law drowning in vengeance and beer kegs,
Unwilling to spend the time with his bride;
The lawbreaker without wife and child
And the people whom by his hands have died.
Seven seconds. Strangely both men smiled.
In the eighth second, they see only red.
The tenth second passes by. Both men fall.
Heart and mind encasing metal, they bled.
And one last memory they do recall—
A hard day’s work for their respective job,
A day long past, both had left their saloon.
As they stared into the stars, their hearts throb—
So pleased to die here, twelve seconds past noon.
They count now. One. A step forward they take.
Two. Again, as hands find his holstered gun.
Three. Veterans, air they calmly intake.
By the fourth second, they both turn around.
Drawings their weapons with such speed, they shoot.
In the fifth, passers-by dive to the ground.
They know only death can solve their dispute.
They miss. Bullets dart cleanly through the air,
Flying death so close to taking their lives.
They begin to wonder, why are they there?
The sheriff who has had multiple wives,
And the outlaw, whose fault was affection.
He may have stolen and he may have killed,
But that caused no fear, for she was smitten—
The sheriff never made her so fulfilled.
At last, when the sixth second came along,
And bullets lodge themselves in arms and legs
The two regretted what they had done wrong:
The law drowning in vengeance and beer kegs,
Unwilling to spend the time with his bride;
The lawbreaker without wife and child
And the people whom by his hands have died.
Seven seconds. Strangely both men smiled.
In the eighth second, they see only red.
The tenth second passes by. Both men fall.
Heart and mind encasing metal, they bled.
And one last memory they do recall—
A hard day’s work for their respective job,
A day long past, both had left their saloon.
As they stared into the stars, their hearts throb—
So pleased to die here, twelve seconds past noon.
