High Noon Antics

High Noon Antics High noon, the time was set upon this arid, sultry day The guns would set against the other, quick-draw style In speedy rivalry and bid to have their final say With keen eyed rapid movement versatile This Western town could not contain two greats Fanned were the flames of liquor and land dispute Thus one would remain, the other to a deathly fate In quick draw fashion and concluding shoot The saloon doors yield to the spurred and booted big boys Holstered guns secured against their denim hips They walk out with swaggered gait and angry poise Out from the quieted hub bub of secure sealed lip A spitting sandy cloud cause tumbleweeds to roll Across the vacant lot betwixt a row of phantom, cardboard houses Where twitchy curtains hang, but of people, not a soul They count the paces for the big encounter Ten honest steps with one determined turn And steel eyed stares that cross the shaky divide With hands that hover o’er the fire arm unconcerned Now sudden moves determine who might live Discharged the flash of solar weaponry betwixt the gap A groan from somewhere denotes a direct hit On crumpled knees the gun relinquishes its grasp Now prone upon the dusty earth, a final moan emitted He took the bullet between the eyes by one more precise The other just grazed upon the arm, remains unfazed Blowing smoke from his gun, he revels in the others demise Only room for one here, he removes his gaze