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Ballad of the Brave

  • Writer: cchiostrinkets
    cchiostrinkets
  • Nov 1, 2024
  • 2 min read

Updated: Feb 23

By Anonymous


Through dust and plains, the iron roared,

With only the finest of folk aboard

The year was 1899

A time of trouble, but divine

The train hummed on, a steady song,

Until three shadows swept along—

Masked outlaws with wild rough hair,

Jumped on board with their yellow teeth bared


Margaret clutched her leather case,

A lone, determined, resolute face.

She would not bow down to these crooks

Who didn't have much by the looks


“Hands up, stay calm,” the leader roared

So terrifying that no one fought

They froze but Margaret said "h*ll no"

"I think it's time for you fellas to go"


The outlaws hissed and even laughed

The people of wealth, they pushed themself past

Shots rang out—a spark, a flash,

The leader staggered from the clash.


For Margaret was no dame in need

She'd always stood on her own feet

And she was not afraid to shoot

Or kick a fella with her boot


But chaos swarmed and people cried

They knew there was nowhere to hide

As guns were fired left and right

Margaret prepared for a longer fight


“You think you’ll win?” she boldly spat,

As bullets sang, hat tipping back.

These men of dirt, of grit and gall,

Would learn she’d never yield or fall.


With leather case still clutched in hand,

She cleared her path, she made her stand.

And as the train rolled down the track,

She faced them down, not looking back.


The finest folk watched in dismay,

At Margaret’s fierce, unflinching sway.

Through dust and gunpowder she stood strong,

Inside her head played a battlesong.


And when the last outlaw fled in fear,

The whispers rose, both far and near.

For no one there would soon forget

The lady’s stand, her bold vignette.


Through dust and plains, the iron roared,

With only the finest of folk aboard.

The year was 1899,

A troubled age, yet wholly divine.


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