Where the Coyotes Sing: The Melancholy Choir of the Western Night

The Old West didn’t reward hesitation—it honored those who acted with purpose.

In the vast embrace where shadows creep,

The coyotes wail, their secrets deep.

Beneath the stars, the weary roam,

These ghostly songs call cowboys home.

The leather creaks beneath his weight,

As the moonlit path reveals his fate.

With every howl, a longing sigh,

A restless heart that yearns to fly.

Mountains rise like ancient kings,

Guarding the tales that twilight brings.

The crackle of fire, warmth and light,

Dances along with the cool of night.

So let the coyote choir resound,

In valleys and peaks, where dreams abound.

For each lone rider, beneath the dome,

Finds solace in song, and calls it home.