The Colt

You think there is something I can't kill?

Show it to me.

I have spat hot lead at demons and watched as they have

quivered and spasmed in their struggle with death.

I have been begged, borrowed and stolen, and stolen again.

Everyone covets me.

There have been years where I patiently waited.

In a metal vault.

In a wooden box.

Knowing someone would come for me again

and unleash my fury at the damned.

There is nothing I can't kill.