The Journey

A hunt for gold turns tragic.

The journey's end is so far away
The looks of despair day after day
How did it ever come to this
Never to see the ones I miss

I go to the hills with a hunger for gold
There are fortunes to be made so the papers have told
When it comes to money there is never enough
I'll make this journey no matter how rough

We pass through the praries and into the mountains
Thirty days left but no one is counting
Snow that blinds and stings your face
We have fallen into a state of disgrace

Here we are with no food to eat
Only the shoes that cover our feet
There is little nutrition to be gained from leather
No hunting to be done due to inclimate weather

One by one we pass away
Meat cooking on the fire to our dismay
We eat the meat with no joy to be found
The looks of anger go round and round

The snow has broken and I'm the last to survive
Six poor souls no longer alive
I leave my comrades laying in a cave
I find my way out and hope to be saved