My Lasting Minutes

A pit in the ground, dark and round,
Where darkness and silence are profoundly abound.

Pain and hardship have always begun
In this place where our precious metals are won.

Whether you're feeble or whether you're strong,
Blood and sweat accompany you along.

Some delight in the depths below,
With the sounds of trains, machines, and explosives that blow.

Many have perished beneath the ground,
Their thoughts etched everywhere, profoundly profound.

At the story's end, the stone is refined,
Into shapes beloved and divinely designed.

So, whenever you look at that golden band,
Remember those who unearthed it from the land.