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Ghost Trails of the Pioneers

Blazing Trails in the Frontier

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

Beneath the whisper of the pines,
Where historys echoes softly twine,
The ghost trails wind through sagebrush bare,
With secrets held in the thin, still air.

Brave souls once rode on backroads tough,
Their dreams ignited, the journey rough.
Through river bends and mountains high,
They carved their path beneath the sky.

Each evenings fire, a story shared,
Of heartaches borne and burdens dared.
With leather creased and weary eyes,
They chased the sun, while starlight sighs.

Now shadows dance where they once trod,
In twilight’s hush, we hear their nod.
The trails remain, a silent song,
Of pioneers who wandered long.