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The Barn
Scattered ghosts of yesteryears
Silver threads in dancing cheers
Rusted hoe and broken rakes
Biting smell is everywhere
Nimbly over antiquated wares
Stumbled on a pile of papers
Dusty, fragile, deteriorated
Dated in the 18th hundred
On the front in big bold letters
The image in black sweater
TREASURE HUNTER: DEAD OR ALIVE?
I had seen him in our archive.
Is it true what the legend says
Gold bars, diamonds, silverwares
Blood relations in a hide-away
Buried deep to be found one day?
Trembling and excited
All at once been ignited
The torn pages of a diary
That belonged to him in query!
Time ticking so fast
Dig, dig, dig!