Henry's Path

I walked down a lonely street, not a soul did I expect to meet. But oh did I see, a lonely he, sitting at the end of the street. I walked up to the man, a worn cane in his hand, and asked him his name and place. With wisdom in his eyes and a smile on his face, He said "Henry" and stretched out his hand. I looked at his palm, worn and weathered. and wondered how long he'd been tethered, to a place like this, so quit and grim. with sweat on his brim, and boots, torn and weathered. And then his eyes looking deep in mine, Said "Sonny, I've lived my time, I’ve played my song, and now, now I 'm waiting for the lord who, somehow, will save this troubled life of mine." He said, "I've lived a hard life, through tears and strife, but now I must go on my way. For the lord's a coming today, to save me and my troubled life." With that he turned away, nothing more wanting to say, and walked on down the street. It made me wonder why this man I did meet, would just saddle up and walk away. So I continued down the road, still carrying the mental load, off Henry and his weathered hat. I imagined the troubles that, so haunted this man on the road. Then I heard the sound, at once my muscles bound, for I knew what cracked in the air. It was Henry's gun, old but fair, that emitted this terrible sound. I turned back toward the man, the gun in his cold hand, bleeding through the hole in his head. I looked at poor Henry, the man now dead, Crooked cane still resting in his hand. Then I watched as though dreaming, As angels came beaming, garmets glowing and bathed in light. I thought to myself this can't be right, my mind must surely dreaming. But I saw Henry arise, great joy in his eyes, happy as he went towards the skies. his cane still at his side, his hat still wide. relief and serenity in his eyes. I stood there and pondered my current path I question the pain and endless wrath that waited at my current destination. and at that very moment, with no hesitation, I departed on my own new path.