Ventured out into the Lonely Wastes.
Far beyond Horizon Verge I did find a cave.
Setup camp and went to work as if I was being paid.
Hammer in hand and sweat on my brow.
Dug my way through basalt rock until I hit a real cashcow.
A cavern filled with brilliance so gleaming.
My five wide eyes could barely grasp the sights I was seeing.
So with eager heart and steady hand I carved out my booty.
Piled it high until my hammer finally snapped.
Mourned that loss before I ventured back.
Townsfolk had never been so pale.
They couldn’t believe I did not fail.
Sold my fortune and bought new tools.
Only to return for yet more of those jewels.
Mined until there was no more I could gather.
Only to load up my skiff and head out west.
Where I sold the lot and became of high interest.
Then lived my life as if I was born a king.
Never wanted again for anything.
But heard others went in search of what I had scored.
Never found much more than a days pay score.
That is my story and there is no more to say.
Except, of course…
You should never be the second to attempt what many like to brand as impossibility.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 