HMMMM

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For the last time, i've returned. I've got dust on my jeans from a dozen battle scenes. I think it's time they get washed with something other than blood. I've seen men fall lower than what I can tell. Women with the style of heaven, but eyes filled with hell. You listen to the men who breathe war. They live drenched in death, western to their core. You walk to the drums of their mantra. It's a thin line between cowboy and camera. To watch the end, or be the end. Either way, you're in the wrong place, with your only friend. He's got six jokes to tell you, his delivery's a blast. You want to shoot first, make the impression last. I must have died horizons ago, this I feel, this I know. To be honest I've seen much worse ways to go. Friends for this last time I've returned. If only to tell you what of myself i've learned.

There are men who leave, and come back worse for the wear.
I've left you a traveler. I've come back a nightmare.