The place was once,

Filled with gold:

Although the fields were empty

and fires cold.

The sun would blaze,

Upon their molten wealth:

Still the ground was dry

and empty wells sang a silent song.

Their moon silvered gold,

Forever over the nation:

Whilst children’s eyes blackened

and the air tasted only of desecration.

Twin stars burnt with wealth,

Over that places lust:

Yet the tears matched the crimson spilt

and the fruits broke down to dust.

The place was once,

Filled with gold:

Although the story remains

the Truth grows cold.

el dorado