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Poem
The sun was setting, as it usually does
The town a ghost town, the main street all but silenced
The wind blowing leaves and dreams to and fro
The tension in the air was palpable

The few souls about all peering out shuttered windows
When in from the west, came a storm
Her name was Serena Storm, 
They shivered in her wake, the poetess of dead lovers

Then over to the east side, riding in slow and steady
The grim reaper or so it seemed, hollowed eyes
Dead soul and dark mind, his side arm at the ready
The greatest duel in history, right here

In the town of Nowhere

The setting sun reflected of her dark long coat
The last tear drop, falling to its death in the dust
She stared ahead, face blank
Daring, with a glare, shoot me, shoot me, try

He dismounted his horse, called Heartless Soul
His eyes slits, staring down the curvaceous storm pacing untoward
His hand inside his coat, slowly pulling out a mickey
He belted down a shot or three, 

In the town of nowhere

They both paced, hands at their side
Closer and closer, the saloon keeper
Not quite sure his bottle would be paid in full
Then as quickly at the sun set……

Vaso drew first. 
The finest long black quill one ever saw
His other hand dropped his bottle
Magically a writing pad appeared

Serena drew second, pen at her side
The color of blood, and for good reason
She too tablet in hand, putting ink to paper
As they both furiously wrote

In the town of Nowhere

Hearts were murdered
The meaning of life was hanged not long after
Love was beheaded
The main street a river of blood

A storm of tears washing away crimson desires
An empty vassal, Vaso’s insides already dead
Dropping his pen, he pulled out his sword of mourning
The duel to end, as he lopped off his own head

She dropped paper and pen to the ground
She faced down the grim reaper, and it’s he who is dead
The only one to know, his name was Arthur
King of the dark, ruler of lost dreams

In the town of Nowhere

The poetic duel of the century
Both won and lost
Long ago
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