THE LEGEND HAD PASSED DOWN FOR GENERATIONS. Far across the Western Sea, where the steamliners could not fly, lay a wilderness land hiding seven cities of gold. I dared the crossing on one of the stout ships that followed the trade route to Poseidon, a tough port city. I worked there for a while on the steamliners that served the alchemy mines, then eventually set out into the Redrock Desert. The stones were sculpted into unearthly monuments, and the country grew cold as I traveled north in search of the most famous
city of gold: Cibola.
Its name had sounded in my dreams
since childhood.
A man can lose his past, in a country
like this
Wandering aimless
Parched and nameless
A man could lose his way, in a country like this
Canyons and cactus
Endless and trackless
Searching through grim eternity
Sculptured by prehistoric sea
Seven cities of gold
Stories that fired my imagination
Seven cities of gold
A splendid mirage in this desolation
Seven cities of gold
Glowing in my dreams, like hallucinations
Glitter in the sun like a revelation
Distant as a comet or a constellation
A man can lose himself, in a country like this
Rewrite the story
Recapture the glory
A man could lose his life, in a country like this
Sunblind and friendless
Frozen and endless
The nights grow longer, the farther I go
Wake to aching cold, and a deep Sahara of snow
That gleam in the distance could be heaven’s gate
A long-awaited treasure at the end of my
cruel fate