The Widow’s Saddle: Loss and Perseverance in a Harsh World

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

Widow™s Saddle, worn and weak,

Bears the weight of memories bleak.

In the dust of trails long left behind,

She finds her strength in the ties that bind.

Beneath the sky, where the eagles soar,

Her heart beats loud for the love once more.

With every stride on that faithful mare,

She rides the wild, a soul laid bare.

Through storms that rage, and nights so cold,

The echoes of laughter now tales retold.

With leather creased from a battle™s strain,

She braves the path through loss and pain.

Yet dawn brings light, a brand-new chance,

In the face of grief, she dares to dance.

For every tear shaped by sorrow™s hand,

The Widow rides forth, firm and grand.