"I have no gold" the nomad said.
"for I have sold my soul.
My eyes are cold, my dreams are dead, my face is but
a skull.
All the money in the world cannot buy me
content,
for all I've earned from meager gains has already
all been spent...
and now the winds of discontent blow howling through
my soul,
and between the stars of the
firmament,
my heart lies black as coal."