The golden sun descends on silver frost,
two bleeding seasons dance upon the line.
Where burning summer heat is paid and lost,
the icy breath of darkness makes them twine.

A trembling bloom of fire, pure and white,
descends to meet the landscape down below.
Her burning touch ignites the freezing night,
to kiss the pale domain of falling snow.

Though destiny decrees they must depart,
an endless love is burned into their mind,
and tears their fleeting, earthly lives apart,
they leave a living legacy behind.

A sinking feeling Crushing cold A darkness envelops, you like an unseen hand that grips your throat and won't let you go.

Anxiety sets in my heart begins to pound. I grip my pistol and pray aloud as I wait for night to pass. 

An unseen presence, but a thing you can feel it haunts my days and authors my nightmares. and attacks me in my sleep.

Dripping sweat from my brow as I contemplate, turning the pistol on my self. I don't think I can take much more of this all-consuming, hell.

A decade passed since weary lawmen died,
to guard the gold that locked itself inside.
A curse was laid upon the lonely hill,
To keep the hidden treasure dark and still.

The midnight sun is bleeding low and red,
across a silent valley of the dead.
He pulls his heavy brimmed hat to his eyes,
as black crows scream their warnings to the skies.

The map is cracked and rotted down with mold,
a scrap of flesh that speaks of Spanish gold.
The ink is dark, like dried and vanished veins,
of men who died in heavy iron chains.