Prosperity

Starlight filters through
The bullet riddled black veil above
A rider in the cold night air
Who knows not what it would be like
To greet tender lips with love
The company of a good hearted woman
Sharing warm apple cider by a fireplace

To have any number of his desires fulfilled

Those dreams have long been killed

The Town of Prosperity welcomes him
Bustling with an occasional tumbleweed
Howling winds driving the sand into a frenzy
Along the main street like spirit horses
Whistling through jagged remnants of windows
Absent of any kind Lady of the Evening
To console this weary traveller
Beaten down by the elemental forces
Shivering
Blinded
Choking
Thirsting

He finds he must pause
To cup his grimy hands

And drink dirty rainwater from a rusted horse trough