El Bravo

Blinding lights reveal your silhouette,

Head bowed in sorrow,

Feet dangling with the weight of obligations.

Every breath which leaves your body,

Creates a rhythmic wave of your back.

Slowly you ascend your gaze to the midnight abyss,

Heaving in a final breath of remembrance.

A shadowed and trembling hand

Pulls the brim or your hat down lower upon your face,

Veiling the bravado of your countenance.

Loyalty seems only a word of dreamers,

But in you is its epitome.

Fealty, strength, honor,

To the world only tales,

But in the fiery glow of your solitude,

They are reality.

A rising slope against the glare

Reveals your final decision.

All fades to black,

Death walks somberly up the stairs to your perch.

As the stars flare once more their brilliance,

Your silhouette is vanished.

Where is the man I adore,

El Bravo?

A/N: I wrote this while working backstage for Copacabana. During the dream sequence, the actor who played Romone, would sit up on these movable stairs and had his feet over the edge with his head bowed; but you could never see his face, just his silhouette, it was such a striking image every night.