Heartless

 Kicking up dust and trouble. Scraping off his boot. The gunk of the last one sticking to it like sin. Longing for redemption as he sips his whiskey. Hell bent on leaving his mark on this unsuspecting town. Then, like a devil wind, he blows out. Leaving a trail of destruction. A life ended. Last thing the poor sucker saw was the barrel of his gun. Now he’s in hell wishing for heaven. The only thing left of his lonely life is stuck to the bottom of a heartless bastard’s boot. Aren’t we all just wiped away by time? 


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