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FRAGILE FAME Print E-mail
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Passing the Cobb & Co. express,
Stopped at station for horses to rest,
A mysterious dark figure rides down the track,
Adorning twin Colts, silver handles swung back.

Slowly advancing on this place of renown,
Known only for the fastest guns around.
Deadly eyes searching, showing no remorse,
Hands free to move, he slides from his horse.

Standing in the street, back to the sun,
One already challenges to the dual of the gun.
The stranger looks down in contemptuous disgust,
As the challengers body displaces the dust.

Many fled as he approached the saloon,
Smashing back the doors to enter the room.
All were silent, nothing stirs,
Only the sound of the strangers spurs.

One attempts his pride to show,
His lifeless body reeling back through a window.
Appearance harsh, guns smooth and fast,
The strangers steps continue through shattered glass.

The reflection in a mirror over the bar,
Betrays a man wearing a star.
The sheriff reached for his gun as he swung around,
Shots were fired but he never heard the sound.

A tall, strong rough hewn man,
With keen eyes and lightning hands.
All stood frozen unmatched to his skill,
Knowing if he lives their fame he'd kill.

The gunfighter had made one fatal flaw,
With the sheriff gone the mob becomes the law.
On the streets townsfolk scatter and run,
Hailing bullets and gunsmoke blocking the sun.

Ducking for cover he draws and shoots,
Yet another staggers with bloodied boots.
The streets filing with bodies prone,
As his bullits seek flesh and splinter bone.

Desperately attempting to preserve his life,
Ammunition near exhausted he throws a knife,
His assailants face contorted and bestilled of tongue,
Painfully grasping the knife piercing his lung.

By far he's the fastest there's ever been,
But no-one could rival so many unseen,
Pistols, rifles and shotgun barrels flaring,
The gunfighter finally lay with blank eyes staring.

Digging graves to place all their fame,
Near another they gave no name,
Their pride was buried with their fears,
As the dust settled under widows tears.

Nigel L. Spark
30/11/1991

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