The death of a cowboy

We live in a land of myths and legends where birth and death come in a manner of ways.  A cowboy’s song is sung along the prairies and under the starlit sky.  He lives his life with a gun on his belt and a horse at his side.  Some use the gun for good and some use it for bad.  And when he passes the gun will no longer be of use to him, no matter the way he find his end.

He walks his last steps into a saloon and to a room, past a chance to drink, where he finds a woman cloaked in black.  There’s no reason to run or question, he knows who she is and why she’s there.  He’s already gone and all that is left is one last dance.

Mount me Lady Death
I do not fear your touch

Shivers do not unfurl along my spine
and my face has not flushed

Speak to me of my life
as you undress your layers

Tell me of what I am accused
I will not spend my prayers

You are the perfect beauty
Eyes through hips and in between

I accept the sentence laid upon me
my life was made up of the obscene

I killed for hire and murdered many
the trigger pulled without a thought

As you undo my belt and holsters
to write upon me what I have wrought

Flesh to flesh you take my body
A last taste of mortal sin

In your eyes a flash of lightening
and your lips against my chin

You writhe above me
while I writhe below

You do the taking
and pull my soul before you go

It floats above my wasted corpse
as Lady Death dons her robes

A cowboy’s life taken under
along with his dreams and his hopes

I will not see another gunfight
or kiss another lass

There will be no riding off into the sunset
my final breath was breathed at last

Lady Death now owns my hire
through today and eternity

Even in death I’m just a gunslinger
with no hope to just be me.

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