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Macabre In Moonlight

A dead man is hanging in my cellar
How he got there; is  a mystery
But I do remember this fella talking at a saloon
Thick mustache, that curled at the wisp of his seedy breath
Whiskey is his scent I know too well

Carousing with the whores of the show
Spreading his lies to spread their legs
They ache for his touch and he lulls them goodnite
Feeling no more warmth from his side of the bed
With a quick turn he is gone and so is their sinners pence

Long-legged and sharp as the knife he held at his breast pocket
Always playing with a keep sake; the first valueable thing he ever took
An from a one-eyed widow who cried over her mate
The same mate he shot like a wildered beast
Just to steal in sheer greed

I recall the way of the game
The odds were in my favors
I smiled   and showed my fate
Just knowing that the pot is mine 
He cussed the saints and ran before whats fair was fare    

I followed looking for my prize
Into the jagged night there he was 
Waiting with his blade so I rallied by the shadows
Right then and there I shook his soul loose from fret and promised a friends drink 
One just for the inconvience of a silly game

There in my house he sat for hours
Brim hat to brag and seethe at what is precious in this world
Fornicated little girls not old enought to know a womans ways
Giggled at all the foolish church folk 
Laughed madly at the idea of Hell


By fire and moonlight
I now know what became of him
As I Stood behind with a thick rope 
Dragged him to the top of a chair
And released the world of this evil , let the macabre sway into the darkness

Now in my cellar he will wait
I suppose he still laughs with Satan
Or maybe cons the angels of their halos
However inhumane he lives; will be no more in this life
In Hell may he rest

Copyright © Shane Solomon | Year Posted 2012

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