The Ridge Where Shadows Rest: A Place of Reflection and Remembrance

Out here, every cowboy knows that fortune favors the bold.

On the ridge where shadows softly creep,

Beneath the sky where secrets keep,

Old tales whisper on the breeze,

Guiding lost souls with ancient ease.

The sunset bleeds a crimson hue,

As every cowboy knows what™s true.

In stillness, memories take their flight,

With echoes of laughter, fading light.

A campfire crackles, warmth wraps around,

While worn-out boots press on sacred ground.

Each flicker reveals a ghostly dance,

Of comrades lost, in this twilight trance.

As stars awaken, time stands still,

On the ridge where hearts have yet to heal.

In reflection, we ride, our spirits blessed,

For here we find the shadows rest.