The Legend of Lone Star

The Legend of Lone Star

A Poem by insanity

This is loosely based off a story I wrote and at this point it is moreso a big rough sketch than a true finished product.



Way back before the west was won

There was Lone Star and his gun

Laying down the law of the land

In the west, there was no faster hand

His legend lives on like the Texas sun



Sitting in the saloon sipping his whiskey

Eying up Maria, he decided to get frisky

She slapped him lightly on the arm

She knew he didn't mean her any harm

Lone Star had always been a bit risky



A dark stranger approached the saloon door

Saying some business he just couldn't ignore

Lone Star wouldn't have any of this mess

He shouted to the man, let's settle this over chess

The two played til they could play no more


Lone Star came out on top, that's for sure

If cancer had crossed him, he'd have a cure

Lone Star refused to take any grief

'Round these parts he was the only chief

His only job, to keep his beloved Texas pure



Lone Star rode in on his trusty steed

Whenever there was someone in need

He was always there to lend his strength

No matter the cause, no matter it's length

To Lone Star, it was his calling, his creed



One day a task came along that wasn't so great

It was something the townsfolk grew to hate

Rogue cowboys came roaming from the west

But Lone Star was there to withstand the test

As his trusty six-gun began to pulsate



Some said it was Lone Star's finest hour

On that day his six-gun, bestowed with power

Shot all of those cowboys cold and dead

One shot, directly to each cowboy's head

None could escape Lone Star's glower



As night fell across Lone Star's home

Shifty shadows soon began to roam

He'd deal with them at the break of day

Now it was time to waste the night away

With lying eyes and a mustache of foam



Lone Star awoke with a mighty thump

Having slept on his trusty steed's rump

He couldn't quite fathom the smell

Until he opened his eyes and saw hell

Or what he chose to call this dump


The only place Lone would call his own

Was a diminutive barn made of stone

Among the hay he slept each night

Awaiting the coming of the morning light

With the rising of the sun, he wouldn't be alone



There was always people out and about

They'd always hoot, holler and shout

Whenever they saw their hero in brown

They call his name out around the town

Lone is here to stay, there's no doubt



One day a letter came from the Pony Express

Addressed to him from the President of the U.S.

Lone Star looked at it quite perplexed

What lie within the note had him vexed

Would Texas too get dragged into this mess?



The very next morning another messenger came

With a strange message, very much the same

But from a different kind of sender than before

A sender that had offered so much more

The Union was instigating this war, they were to blame



Along with the other rebel children

They banded together in hopes they'd win

Secession from a mighty young nation

As Lone Star headed for the train station

He wondered when he'd see home again



Oh the horrors Lone did see in lands apart

Sights that tugged on the strings of his heart

Two boys calling out his uncommon name

It was then he realized that all men are the same

As they lay dying near a downtrodden rampart



Lone Star smiled upon the men one last time

Did the punishment really fit the crime?

Did they all deserve to die, in their blue and gray?

Lone Star shed a tear as the boys passed away

Not yet men, now they'd never see their prime



Lone Star, now a general, gave thanks

Having rather quickly risen up the ranks

He stood talking to his regiments

Awakened from their hastily set up tents

On the mighty Mississippi river banks



There was to be a pivotal battle today

As the troops listened to what Lone had to say

An eeriness filled the thick August air

The Union was lurking somewhere out there

Lone Star wished there was another way



The two sides met the end of each other's gun

With his grays outnumbered three to one

Things soon began to look rather grim

The chances of survival seemed rather dim

But Lone wouldn't give up 'til the war was won



Surrounded on all sides they fought to the very last

Until Lone Star stood by himself, quite aghast

Guns pointed at him he said his piece

I want this war to end, even if slavery must cease

We are all good men and we are dying too fast



Lone Star knew the jig was up that morning

The Union gave them little warning

Of their strike on that August day

Lone Star, the lone survivor of the fray

Jailed by union men, still fuming, still scorning



A long time passed before Lone Star's trial

He was hopeful but blissfully in denial

His fate was not a happy one at that

He knew this from the cell in which he sat

They led them in the room, in single file



The judge boomed at the men, holding their fates

To each of your crimes against the United States

You shall be tried upon this hallowed ground

Unless your innocence shall indeed here be found

For slavery and contempt are what Uncle Sam hates



Lone Star didn't have much left but a little hope

He was very much at the end of his rope

On that day the judge spared him on each count

Provided he re-pay Uncle Sam the full amount

With this Lone Star could surely cope



Lone Star rode back to Texas on the train
Oh how he longed to see her once again

But just before he set his eyes on her once more

His heart stopped and he dropped to the floor

As he writhed around in unfathomable pain



It was there in the train that he finally fell

He never much cared for heaven or hell

Much more interested in whiskey or his beers

He didn't need theology to feed off his fears

Those things just didn't go together well



As Lone Star walked into the light

One last vision entered his dying sight

He once more saw his beloved home

Never again did those shadows roam

Even in death, Lone Star still could win the fight



With his trusty six gun lying idle at his side

On that very train Lone Star curled up and died

The legend of the man still lives on

Though his body has long since gone

What still lives on is his pride



For in the stories and the memories of man

Men can't live forever but Lone Star can

He was far more than a mere mortal

His soul, his way of life, a portal

To a higher way of thinking's far greater plan



Though he may now in peace rest

No memorials had at his very behest

The people still try to remember their fallen friend

All they have now is stories to keep alive the legend

Of the great Lone Star, the true king of the west



© 2009 insanity

Author's Note

If you see any obvious issues, please let me know, I'm not interested in changing the content of the story/poem but any grammatical errors I'd like to get rid of as I try to refine this one.

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Added on November 17, 2009
Last Updated on November 17, 2009



Pasadena, MD

I'll get to filling this out again later. more..