The Stars Over the Ridge: A Beacon for Wanderers in the Dark

In the Old West, your word was your bond, and respect was earned the hard way.

Beneath the vast, unyielding dome,

The stars above called wanderers home.

Their twinkling light, a guiding spark,

For souls like him lost in the dark.

A cowboy™s hat cast low with care,

He felt the night breeze stir his hair.

With leather reins clenched tight and bold,

He sought the stories yet untold.

The ridge ahead rose high and grand,

Its silhouette like dreams unplanned.

With every step, his courage grew,

The stars above, his fellowship true.

As dawn approached, the dark retreated,

With amber light, the glory greeted.

The cowboy smiled, the journey clear,

For stars over the ridge drew ever near.