Dusk comes to the Gun-Wielder

With the last remnant of a misplaced manhood in his hand, the boy, now a man, blows with the wind to reap the pastures of kinder men. A bag-full of sorrow has turned to hate, and dreams of better days have gone astray. Invited by the Dusk to follow the slumber of the Sun, never to see it rise again. Here walks a man with a handful of wrong choices and a heart buried in the dust. Peace be with you Gun-Wielder, Son of Shadows...