Gold
A thin vein of yellow
Created a million years ago
Hidden beneath cold black rock
It waits for someone to find it
Men on horseback
Picks, pans and explosives
They search endlessly
Wandering mountainsides
Kneeling waste deep in glacial water
Living decades in dark tunnels
The lust, the fever grows
Years have been wasted
Men have given their lives
They have lost their loves
Their children abandoned
They deserted their homes
Just for the rush of the search
The dream of untold wealth
Gallons of blood spilt
Hundreds of lives lost
Gathering the glistening metal
Protecting it
Stealing it from the unsuspecting
It doesn’t know it power
It doesn’t care about the lust it creates
It doesn’t think about the lives it has taken
That thin vein of yellow
It just waits
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