The Ridge Under the Crimson Sky: A Place of Beauty and Farewell

The Old West taught us that persistence often unearths the greatest treasures.

Upon the ridge where wildflowers sway,

The sunset bleeds, a brilliant display.

Beneath the clouds that blush and glow,

We gather round, where memories flow.

The campfire crackles, its warmth so near,

With laughter shared, yet fainted cheer.

For every tale of days gone by,

Is laced with sorrow, a whispered sigh.

The horses graze, their tails held high,

As shadows lengthen neath the indigo sky.

Each hoofbeat feels like times embrace,

A fleeting dance in this sacred place.

As twilight fades, we say goodbye,

To dreams and hopes neath the crimson sky.

Yet love lingers in the evening air,

In this ridge of beauty, a heart laid bare.