The Branding Iron’s Cold Return: A Symbol of Work That Never Ends

The only way to find new horizons is to keep riding toward the setting sun.

In twilights hush, the cattle graze,

As whispers ride on a warm night™s haze.

The branding iron, once red and bold,

Now lies cold, its tales yet untold.

With leathered hands and sunburnt skin,

Each brand a story, where strength begins.

For every steed that bounds and roams,

The iron speaks of the sweat that moans.

Echoes of laughter and sorrow collide,

In valleys deep where the lost abide.

For each mark forged upon a flank,

Resides a promise and a silent thank.

So don your hat, let the stars align,

Through grit and grace, let the herd be thine.

The work which burdens, yet sets us free,

Is written deep in the irons decree.