The Death of Billy Sims.

“Vengence is mine,” sayeth the Lord, but I knew I could never comply.

So I chased the man called Billy Sims to the edge of the Arctic sky.

From far out on the prairies, to the rim of perpetual ice

I tracked the thief  who’d stolen the heart, of my young and beautiful wife.

For a year I had trailed this murderous wretch, a year where I suffered and bled

Knowing I’d follow his thieving hide, no matter where his trail led.

From ninety above, to sixty below, I stayed on the wandering track

Of Billy Sims, and the hate was so strong, I knew I could never turn back.

From my beautiful farm to the edge of hell, he raced in heedless flight

Trying to run from the crimes he’d done, that violent sin filled night.

The tracks had led from my homestead bed, to the edge of the Arctic ice,

Not Billy’s alone that staggered on, but also those of my wife.

By the fire at night I sat alone, and stared into the leaping flames

Exhausted in body and mindless of all but the sound of his thieving name.

“Billy Sims, Billy Sims” was all I could hear o’er the sound of the frozen wind

And his death was all that I dreamed of, and the way I would do him in.

Through endless miles of lonely trail, in a land that seemed frozen and dead

I cared nothing at all for the endless pain but thought of revenge instead.

At night as I lay in my goose-down, and the ice of the river cracked

I saw in my mind the bloody end of the perfidious pair I tracked.

In front of me they ran for their lives, and the tracks told me the tale

Of a thieving man, and a woman who ran, to live with him on the trail.

A tale as old as hell itself, of love betrayed and spurned

And I followed on, each frozen dawn, while the need for vengeance burned.

The tundra was endless, a frozen waste, and the air was thick with frost

The nights were as black as the thoughts I held, but I cared not what the cost

I’d find this pair and in despair he’d gasp out his last breath.

This Billy Simms who’d stolen my life, and left me close to death.