Where have all the cowboys gone?

Here in the lonesome silence of my solitude I can't help but remember the countless times ambling through this strange world of questionable intent, with the smokey shadows of my friends floating ghostly by my side, all of us looking for something; that answer to the unanswerable query of purpose in this time and space, but none of us truly able to articulate who or what it is, only knowing that we haven't really found it, and if and when we ever do it'll probably makes us madder than a three week crack binge. I've met so many people who swear they have found it, but I can't help but wonder if they just gave up and stopped looking, for they don't seem any more enlightened than myself, rehashing all the same old theories and stories. I think of how it's only in the moment that one can truly lose oneself to the unperceptable gratification of life, struggling and fighting for the climax, only to be trapped in regret once it's gone and your left cold and lonely wanting to make an escape. All those wild nights chasing the dawn, with its threat to show you as you exactly are; because inside you feel like a rocket flashing across the night sky but in all actuality your appearance betrays your soul because of that haggard face, and its deep set wearied wrinkles, swollen and bleary eyes, and your blank dazed stare. Time passes quickly by in the world of the mortal's. Before you know it everything you once cherished is gone, but there you still are, positioned amongst the fallen. All one can do is sell out and hope it's not to late...., too late to learn, too late to love, too late to make a new start and find a little niche in life, and pray it won't feel overly torturous. Maybe find a piece of contentment, whether it's from the planting of a garden or watching the grass grow. Sure ain't nothing like the old days though.