January 31, 2009: The man with a halberd
In the wrong bar, in the wrong town,
Of the most western planet of the ‘verse.
Banditos drink, robbers split the loot,
Planning to put the others in a hearse.
Walks in a lone figure,
Walks the man with a halberd.
He sits down, orders strawberry wine,
Sipping it coolly, eyes set forward.
A gun quick to his head, unquavering,
“Ever wondered about life afterward?”
Not once flinching,
Sits the man with a halberd.
“Money, now.” Comes the demand,
The man examines a laterns light.
He finishes his wine, and faces the enemy,
“Dear sir, you do not want this fight.”
Is replied back,
By the man with a halberd.
A single shot in wanring, it’s enough.
Fast as lightning, slashing the aggressor.
The villain collapse, the victors stands,
Ready to face the successor.
Long prepared,
Now fights the man with a halberd.
Many charge, all fail to win.
One by one, every man dispatched.
A fews coins dropped to pay for the drink,
To the back, the polearm is latched.
Walking out now,
Leaves the man with a halberd.