The Trail of Iron

Out on the plains, where the tall grass sways, The wagon wheels cut deep in clay. Dust clouds rise, the oxen strain, Dreams pull hard on the western plain. Men chase gold in the mountain seams, Eyes like fire, sleep lost to dreams. Women whisper of a home to keep, Where the roots grow strong and the earth runs deep. Nightfall brings the campfire’s glow, Stories told where the coyotes roam. Fiddles hum with the crackling flame, Every mile’s another name. The prairie winds sing low and wide, Some find hope, some just survive. Every step west is a gamble rolled, Trading sweat for a shot at gold. The trail runs long… Where the wild winds moan. A thousand dreams tied to broken bones. Iron wheels grind, The rivers run cold. Some strike it rich… Some never grow old. A graveyard wagon lingers behind, Crosses rise where the trails unwind. Each sunrise brings another test, Some are blessed, others laid to rest. The sky burns red as the storms roll near, The wagons creak but they push through fear. Every soul rides on, weathered and bold, The Trail of Iron… and veins of gold. Stars stretch wide as the firelight fades, The plains grow still, no sound but the sage. Another mile, another dawn, The wagons roll… the train stays strong.