El-Dorado Poem by Franklin Spriggs

Oh where can it be, Have I forgot my way,
As I journey amidst the shadows,
Across this desert of burning heat,
In search of El-Dorado.

With parched lips dry, and my head bowed low,
I know I must not slow,
I dare not stop on this crucible of death,
In search of El-Dorado.

The wind beat sand, slashing across my face,
I stumble to and fro,
Up one more dune and down the next,
In search of El-Dorado.

My body moans in agony,
My mind tells me to let it go,
But I cannot quit, just one more dune,
In search of El-Dorado.

But alas I see, in not to distant view,
Palm trees and waters of endless flow,
I'll not be swallowed of this burning hell,
For alas, I have found, El-Dorado.

Author,
Franklin Spriggs
2/22/08