Riding in Stride with the Devil (a Poem)

He wasn’t very old, he was only just a lad.
Barely had a clue about what was good or bad.
So when they came and took him, showed him where to point his gun,
He did just what they asked him, didn’t have the sense to run.
And gradually he grew to love that pistol by his side,
For every night, hand in hand with the devil he would ride.

And it’s night after night with the Devil,
He doesn’t know any other way.
He’s riding in stride with the devil
And in daylight he’s hiding away.

But one day things caught up with him and took him by surprise
He always knew they’d come for him and justice would arise.
They chased him down and cornered him, no escape in sight
He emptied out his handgun, it was one last desperate fight.
So the bullets that he lived by were the way he had to die,
And when he fell, he turned and saw the devil by his side.

It was one last ride with the devil
He couldn’t see any other way
He was riding in stride with the devil,
And the devil has taken him away.

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