To Town With No One Left

THE TOWN WITH NO ONE LEFT I rode beneath a dying sky, With blackened clouds and ravens high. The road was cold, the wind was thin, Then far ahead, the town began. The wooden sign was cracked and torn, The streets looked dead, the houses worn. A lantern swung above the door, But no one lived there anymore. NO LIGHTS. NO VOICES. NO FOOTSTEPS IN THE DUST. NO FIRE. NO LIVING SOUL. JUST WIND AND BROKEN RUST. THE TOWN WITH NO ONE LEFT, WHERE EVERY WINDOW STARES. THE TOWN WITH NO ONE LEFT, BUT SOMETHING'S WAITING THERE. I HEARD THE OLD CHURCH BELL, THOUGH NO HAND PULLED THE ROPE. SO I TURNED MY HORSE AROUND, AND RODE INTO THE COLD. The saloon doors moved in the breeze, A glass still stood beside the keys. A chair lay broken on the floor, A coat still hung beside the door. The clock had stopped at half past ten, As if the world had ended then. And scratched into the tavern wall, Were just four words: “DON'T STAY AT ALL.” THE TOWN WITH NO ONE LEFT, WHERE EVERY WINDOW STARES. THE TOWN WITH NO ONE LEFT, BUT SOMETHING'S WAITING THERE. I HEARD THE OLD CHURCH BELL, THOUGH NO HAND PULLED THE ROPE. SO I TURNED MY HORSE AROUND, AND RODE INTO THE COLD. I left that place beneath the moon, The next town should be coming soon. But miles went by beneath the stars, No distant lights, no open bars. Then through the fog I saw a sign, Another town beyond the pines. The same dead street. The same church bell. The same four words: “WELCOME TO HELL.” THE TOWN WITH NO ONE LEFT, WHERE EVERY WINDOW STARES. THE TOWN WITH NO ONE LEFT, BUT NOW I KNOW WHAT'S THERE. THE ROAD GOES ON FOREVER, AND EVERY TOWN'S THE SAME. I RIDE UNTIL THE MORNING, BUT MORNING NEVER CAME. No map. No end. No way back home. Just me... and the endless road.