Desperado Part Ii Poem by Chris Purser

All alone on a dusty old road,
An old, experienced sheriff stands,
Upon two holsters rest tired hands,
At his feet bodies lie, justice bestowed.

Undefeated, the sheriff and his gun,
The man reflected on yesteryear,
A legend he’d silenced, to end the fear,
The desperado fell in morning sun.

Now deep in the earth old vengeance stirred,
Death was soon to be awake again,
The citizens slept in confidence,
To think the dead could awake was absurd.

A symbol of all that’s just and good,
Confident in his abilities,
Yet unaware of vulnerabilities,
It was coming, but the sheriff just stood…