My soul got infected with a mysterious fever
When I heard the tales of the Klondike trail
In my dreams I explored oily riverbanks
Washing the gravel in my rusty pan
With high hopes I waved my folks goodbye
Took a steamship across the Polar Sea
In Dyea I joined the stampeding mass
Climbing the steep, windy Chilkoot Pass
The weak fell in heaps to the mountainside
Their stories would never be told
With broken hearts and icicle tears
They gave up their search for GOLD

Blue glaciers behind us, we camped by the lakes
To build our boats and wait for the spring
Brooding ice fields melted and we got on our way
Left at the mercy of rocks and spray
Through rapids, whirlpools and undertows
Some of us made it to Dawson Town
A boomtown crowded with ragged tents
Bars, saloons and gambling dens
When I saw the facades and heard the lies
I turned and ran out into the cold
I preferred a life in the twilit woods
To a city of sin and GOLD

I walked through the wasteland all by myself
And claimed the nameless brooks and creeks
Ghostly sundogs illumined the cerulean sky
Mercury falling, days drifting by
One night I crossed silent hollows and hills
When a blizzard churned inland and eclipsed the stars
My blood seemed to freeze; I staggered and fell
Glinting diamonds exploded in the arctic hell
My body broke through the crystal snow
I slid down without finding a hold
I found myself in an underground cave
The walls gleaming with GOLD

 2014 Alex Schaetzing. All Rights Reserved.