Inktober prompt two: Relic

 

Bring the heart of gold you know with you

Into the cave so soundly as due

We will bury it there

With wary care

Leave it with the soil

Burn the candle oil

As we leave and never come

Never talk of it, barely to none

The secret is secret

Until one is in debt

And with a poor, poor ethic

He goes to find our relic

But he can find it not

For he looked where it was hot

And not in the caves of ice

In Greenland! Rest in peace those confused mice

So now he who searched in dessert oasis

Won’t find where this place is

For melted is his face and bod

We read this story and gaily we all nod

- E. E. Huckabee