Paint With Fire

Painted ponies blaze Across the steppe-land maze I bask in the sun's dying rays Newborn hopes had begun to raise Timid dreams of brighter days Wagon wheels break the Western skies Intensive care for invasive lies Truth hidden soon dies Hurling poker chips, roll your snake eyes Finding solace in the campfire Indigeous hate we all inspire Railways stealing for hire Engulfing the plains with our funeral pyre -------- I'm still on a Western kick it seems. Oops. I wrote this thinking of Andrea Dietrich's contest, but I'm pretty sure this isn't the right tone. Ah my muse. Sorry.