Happiness

In the valley below, men work for gold

Singing their work song, over, and over,

Sedated, never to become the bold.

Their lives, a waiting game, no exposure

What kind of man can live such a bare life

Of solitude, wasted away, no closure.

In their divine sorrow,, they seek the knife

Lost on the river, they say their goodbyes

The ludicrous men stay behind in strife

The free become heroes, joyful and wise

Burned bridges leading to the valley below

Rebuilding lives, no longer living lies

Their masterpiece a perfectly incomplete show

The Valley already seems like a long time ago.