The Dust Beneath the Hooves: Traces of Life Left Behind

The West wasn’t won by luck—it was carved by determination and hard work.

In twilight™s hush, where silence breathes,

The dust swirls gently neath the steeds,

Each hoofprint tells a story grand,

Of rugged trails across this land.

With leather reins and heart so bold,

The cowboys gaze like embers gold,

In harsh terrain, his spirit thrives,

A dance of life where freedom drives.

The echoes of the past resound,

In whispered winds, old legends found,

From tumbleweeds to painted skies,

Each trail reveals where courage lies.

So as the sun dips low and shy,

The dust beneath gives soft reply,

For every ride that time commands,

Leaves traces of our distant lands.