Let any gunslinger
Who meets my gaze
Learn the true meaning of fear
For I am the harbinger of death
The bane of bush campers
My aim is true and unwavering
As I shoot in the enemy's heads
A man, scorned by this uncaring earth
Finds solace in the bayou
My only friend
The gun in my holster
Cold, steel
Holding the bullets
That pierce those
Who stand in my way
I am alone
I am empty
And yet, I hunt.