A man of the cloth,

He live by the gun,

Running from his past,

Chained to his past,

Unable to reach his future.

His friend a man, yet not a man

Looking for a future unreachable

A Treasure untold

The red coated humanoid typhoon.

His love a women of gental nature

Of childish heart

A kind face

But an iron hand

His enemy his teacher

He who taught him the life of the gun

His enemy broken at his feet

The path of god he did take.

Now at his final hour

His cross, his weapon at his side

Kneeling before the cross

The faces of his friends he sees

The man yet not a man

Who looks for redemption

The little gun who seeks order

The love of his life who waits for him

He smiles, and dies.