In the dust where silence sighs,
The cowboy falls, his last breath drawn,
A bullet’s kiss beneath wide skies,
Before the sun heralds the dawn.

Gunfire echoes in the night,
A sharp retort, a final plea,
Shadows dance in pale moonlight,
His fate a darkened prophecy.

He strides back through the swinging doors,
Hat tilted low, a glance, a glare,
Eyes meet eyes, intent restores,
The tension thick within the air.

Cards clatter on the worn-out table,
Luck and fate in fortune’s game,
A hand that once was strong and able,
Now folds in shadows, spent and lame.

His horse, it whinnies, nostrils...