Ballad of the Brave
- 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.
Want to join Project CfaTW? More info here!
Commenti