The Last Horizon’s Glow: A Cowboy’s Final Look Toward the West

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

In twilights grasp, the prairie sighs,

The last horizon’s glow, a bittersweet prize.

His hat tipped low, a shadowed stand,

With memories of dust and the sagebrush land.

The mountains loom, their peaks aflame,

Once conquered paths now whisper his name.

With leathered hands that have weathered the fight,

He glimpses the stars, a fading light.

A loyal steed, beneath him stands proud,

In the silence, their bond speaks loud.

Each hoofbeat tells of the trails hes roamed,

In the golden glow, he feels like home.

As night descends, with dreams to bestow,

He lifts his gaze to the western glow.

With courage firm and heart aglow,

He rides toward fate, where wild winds blow.