Duel To Death Poem by Ima Ryma

Pistols be the weapons of choice
For a duel between the two men,
As result of offending voice,
Neither man willing to give in.
The place, a secluded farm field.
The time, midnight with moonlit sky,
So that enough light is revealed
For one to live, other to die.
The men, first back to back, then pace
Ten steps each as the rules require,
Then stop and turn around and face
Each other, and both pistols fire.

Smoke rises from the barrel of gun
Hand held by the shooter who won.