Ambivalent
Callous
conscience
People
make plans
The
gods laugh
Waiting
to hear the silence
Alerts
of opportunities lost
Lurking
on the edge of darkness
No Escape
from paradise
The
walls are to high
Everyone
is sorry about something
As
a cowboy rides a trail
His
horse high stepping in the snow
Clinging
on his lifeline
Head
hanging low
Snow
builds even on his hat
Covering
in white
What
once was black
Hand
not gripping the colt 45 this time
Army
issued in 62
Some
wars never end
Chasing
ghost in the snow
The
Air is cold
frozen
above the ground
So
cold it crackles
The
cowboy brings his head up
Just
to spit icicles
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