He trudged up the high mountain trail, rifle in hand,
feet bound up in rags, leaving blood drops behind.
Never looking up, his blue eyes glued to the ground,
following a broken trail, in an unreadable state of mind.
It was obvious he'd fought with something or someone,
he moved slowly and stiffly but with a purposeful gait.
And on his battered face no trace of emotion showed,
but to look in his eyes was to look upon the face of hate.
The trail rose ever upward, winding over and around,
yet he never wavered from his long, steady, solid stride.
Mile after mile, like a man possessed, he kept on and on,
finally crossing the mountains, cut by the great divide.
Six miserable days he walked, barely alive, never resting,
eating only a bite or two from some dead and dried up meat.
On the morning of the seventh day out he finally stopped,
looking down in a valley, he saw what he came to defeat.
Way down, a tiny spiral of pale-white smoke drifted up,
and the man on the trail smiled, with the grimace of death.
Starting down, slow and sure, it was a foregone conclusion,
her killer would die today and he would take his last breath.
The killer never heard him, never moved as he came near,
not until the man, in a deathly whisper, asked coldly, 'Why'?
The murderer jumped up, grabbing his gun on the way,
it was far too late for him, the man had let his bullets fly.
Her killer gasped out his last breaths and gave him an evil grin,
'I took her, wanted her, hell, she was just a filthy Injun whore!'
His last words they were, as again, the man pulled the trigger,
putting a bullet between the killer's eyes, evening the score.
The man felt at peace now, the pain no longer so terrible,
he walked over by the fire, sat with his back up against a tree.
He closed his eyes and soon fell into a deep and profound sleep,
watched as his lovely wife came and told him he was free.
He lifted his hand as she smiled and gently pulled him to his feet,
he no longer felt tired or hungry, no longer sorrowed inside.
They were together again, just like it was when they first met,
they would walk these forest trails, now forever, side by side.
Author notes
The poem is a ballad..
The man is a trapper/fur trader..
This is based on the revenge/love theme that has been the basis of classical and modern writings since the beginnings of recorded history..
My character came home find his wife, whom he loved very deeply, brutally raped and murdered.. From that point his life ceased to exist and instead became a focused passion for justice..
It did not matter to him that he would die in the end, his whole intent and purpose was revenge and death to the man who ruined his life.. The eye for an eye plot is obvious but has nothing to do with religion..
A perfect example for this ballad is based on the Movie, The Bravados, with Gregory Peck made in 1958.. It is still one of my favorite westerns..
Pic Credit:http://buffalographics.deviantart.com/art/MOUNTAIN-MAN-OF-CASTLE-ROCK-81243280
A contest entry
- Cowboy's In 1880 by ennovy.
700 points, ended February 23, 19 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Well done poem of the old west....thank you for entering...novy
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A wonderful, uplifting story. Some might call it sad, but I wouldn't. After putting her executioner to death, he walked on from this life to be with her in eternal bliss.
Well done, and good luck in the contest.
Brazos
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Good little western tale with the familiar taste of revenge. Good luck in the contest and happy trails.
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Such a tragic story. He got his revenge but died in the end. Yet you made it a happy ending when he was united with his wife. Amazing.
Best of luck in the contest.
Wonderful~~~
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