Here’s another groundscore, found actually in the hollow of a tree in the woods behind my cattle-country estate. Seems to have been written in blood with the tip of a knife; there’s a “3” at the top in a circle, which seems to be a page number. The title, more just a label, is mine. Wish I found the whole thing; sounds like a really cool creepy tale.
The End of the Ballad of the Unnamed
and that’s why, ever since,
when dust settles after rain,
his disembodied corpse
can be seen out on the range.
That’s right, there’s just a skull–
a cup of bone atop a pole,
for whom it matters not
if the rest be returned whole.
But where do those rest be?
The question wanders through much talk—
except on nights after rains
‘cross the range when we see … them … walk.