A Cowboy's Easter

April 9, 10:20 PMMinneapolis Gun Rights ExaminerJohn Pierce

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Last night I dreamt I had run my race
And reached the finish line
And walked the darkened desert path
That waits for all in time

And when I reached the trailhead there
I was rounded up and penned
Inside the ranch that's called The Grave
The destiny of men

Well, the ramrod was a wicked man
His name was simply Death
Who ruled over all the herd
Of those who once drew breath

And in the center of the ranch
Was a spring of water sweet
That sang to us of life anew
As we suffered in the heat

But struggle though we tried and tried
We never could get near
The ramrod had a gun of fire
And a whip of solid fear

But when our hopes had died away
And turned into despair
A mighty wondrous thing occurred
For all the mortals there

A cowboy rode into the ranch
And the ramrod seemed to pale
For this had never happened
But he had heard the tale

For ancient legend had it
That one day a man would ride
Down the dark and twisted path
With a wound upon his side

And his hands would also bear twin scars
And his hat would hide a crown
And he would take this ranch
And he would cast it down

Now this cowboy really looked the part
His shirt was stained with blood
And his reins were also slick with it
Where he held them in his gloves

But battle weary though he was
His eyes held naught of fear
And all of us who saw him
Felt salvation was near

And though the ramrod has been called
Pale Rider as you know
Never had he looked so pale
As he faced his mighty foe

And the cowboy swung down from his horse
And he faced the one called Death
Then all of Heaven and of Earth
They all just held their breath

And the cowboy spoke to Death
So everyone could hear
"Do not mistake me for the lamb.
I am a lion here."

"The price I paid to walk this path
Was steep, but gladly paid.
And now I call you out
For your destiny is laid."

And on his hip a sixgun shone
Forged by divinity
And on his holster was a brand
The mark of Trinity

And Death went for his gun of fire
But the cowboy was too fast
And in a flash of blessed light
The age of Death was past

by John Pierce