Ancient sentinels of the Sonora
stone guardians of cursed ore
arid desert winds carry enticing whispers
that fan the flames of the fever
Few are the precious secrets you reveal
many a bleached skeleton litters your sere landscape
still the fever courses through human veins
while the prospectors search for the wealth in yours
The River Peoples fear your mountains
Native warriors are your faithful protectors
the Jesuit and Conquistadors drew some golden blood
until grisly Death frightened them away
Mystery, Legend, Superstition
they shroud your jagged peaks
protecting the secrets within
still those hot desert winds blow those seductive whispers...
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