The Man with No Name

Another poem, for your pleasure. 🙂

 

The Man with No Name

E.E. Blake

 

The Man with No Name walks a lonely road.

The sand-laden wind whispers constant—

A banshee’s howl, forever at his ears.

With each step across the sandy dune,

His spurs trill—

Two hide tambourines,

Singing to the moon.

 

They call him the Bullet Blazer,

He is the Quickest of the Dead.

He needs not utter any threat—

For his smoking gun speaks best.

 

The Man with No Name walks a lonely road,

A road no other man would surely go.

It is a road of skulls and poisoned livers,

A road of death and blood-stained money.

 

His future bears no heirs, my friend,

For he is as good as legend.

Though his hands are quick and deadly,

There is always one man quicker.

 

The Man with No Name walks a lonely road.

He knows Fortune is a Mortal Sin,

But it is Fortune he shall take.

His grimace gleams upon the Golden prize

Which lays amidst the sand between

Three shadows reaching for their hips.

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