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The Last Call Echoes of a Night Remembered

Kicking Up Dust on the Trail

The trail might be tough, but a cowboy always finds a way forward.

Beneath the vast, uncharted plains,
A lone campfire flickers, warmth remains.
The whiskey flows, like time, so sly,
As laughter dances, neath the starlit sky.

A ghostly tune on the whispering breeze,
Recalls old battles fought with ease.
With weathered hands, they raise a glass,
To friends long gone, whose spirits pass.

The horses graze on the rugged land,
While tales unfold, as if preplanned.
Memories linger in the midnight air,
Of wild rides, and laughter shared.

As dawn approaches, softly it creeps,
A daybreak hymn that gently weeps.
With one last call, the night departs,
Etched in the soul, neath cowpoke hearts.