The Thief of Bones

Gathering dust in darkness and cold,
in coffins sleep the kings of old.

Within these tombs dwell only the dead,
where those who live
                             . . .dare not tread

Rumours speak of treasures unseen,
for which kingdoms fell and firelights gleamed.

Such insatiable thirst for gold,
luring one, so brave, so bold.

The audacity to dishonour the dead,
with daring spirit he will forge ahead.

He'll leave with name carved in stone
the deceased will call him . . .

                                       The Thief of Bones.



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