The Sky’s Crimson Edge: A Cowboy’s Last Glance at Day’s End

Do what’s right, ride tall, and keep your boots clean—it’s the cowboy way.

sun dips low, its fiery crest,

As shadows stretch from east to west,

On windswept plains where silence swells,

A cowboy stands, with tales to tell.

His hat pulled low, the horizon glows,

In hues of red where the cool breeze blows,

The leather creaks beneath his weight,

A moment captured, as dusk holds fate.

With every glance, he feels the pull,

Of distant mountains, vast and full,

Like echoes of a life well-spent,

In rugged lands where time has bent.

As stars emerge from twilight’s veil,

He whispers soft, a farewell tale,

For in this sky, his spirit flies,

A cowboys heart beneath crimson skies.