As he stepped  down from stirrup to dirt the road worn traveler reached up to the boiling  sun.

How far had he rode today. From pillar to hitching post a wayward  ghost a hollow merchant.

Swathed in leather and silver...tooled steel on his hip...a killer by trade. He was made to this

By nightfall alone on moonlit  trail would he be in slow self procession to find bad intentions.Tradesman in sulfur and lead...black smoke and resounding explosions. Then silence.

Tradesman in black.
Death and deliverance.
Paid in full.