Along the road to no where many prayers were said, on the broken trail of lies and pain I made my bed at night, ragged clothes feet bare and bloody the cold and rain had no roof to block them, my only warmth my only comfort was the troubled promise of tomorrow.
No trail cleared no road smooth and solid the only to path to follow was the blood of my brothers who stumbled along before me, whispered songs of heart breaking mourning lifted the winds the branches groaning, as with secret smiles they marked our going.
Bundled prayers were buried reminders of our forced passage, saplings bent to letters only those who knew could follow, bright and strong the message to those who would come generations after, so long as they have not forgotten that what you gather needs a prayer.
Touch these at your own hazard know well the curse they carry, if not meant for you there will be no bearing the weight upon your spirit, your bones will melt like water, legs shake as if the world were falling,
no longer will your tongue be lying only truth will you be sharing.
Reach out to thunder clapping, lightning your world will shatter, splitting all asunder man, plant, and beast will wonder, those who see will know you have taken what to you is not belonging, in your place they would not shoulder the terror your soul will soon be knowing.
Yes, those buried treasures you are finding have a meaning, and if you do not know already it is not for you it was waiting, these are the prayer bones of my ancestors, in this place have walked ancients with great knowledge, these things are not for you they are Sacred.
Leave alone the graves of those you tortured, let be in peace the blood your kind was spilling, you have reaped all that you will be taking, it is now our seeds that are growing, nurtured by the blessings of a wiser People, what is that you hear, oh, yes, Thunder Speaking.
Soft laughter in your mind is creeping, strangled sounds your soul is making feeling the weight of blood guilt upon your shoulders, do not worry much has been forgiven but my friend not one thing is forgotten, as the children watch you sink in silent mud of your own making.
All you wanted has been granted, all the riches that you squandered, greed has been your tight companion, as you raped a land so filled with beauty leaving nearly nothing for your own grandchildren,
now upon your own head your dreams are falling and you are squalling.
What now the winds whisper to those consumed by take it all fever, what is left but your crumbling visions, as the next wave of invaders are closely looking, do you not wish to be Civilized as we were,
are you not grateful to those who think they know better?
Do you not like this new religion, just see how devoutly they believe what they are preaching, ah yes it will be more than your names they are changing as they take away all that you have already stolen, who are you to cry foul, did you not do the same to my kind and think it fairness?
It makes no sense to me for a People to call them selves defenders, or patriotic when they now turn away those emigrating, yelling most loudly there is no room here, we do not want you to take from our children's future, when you live on lands and resources not yours.
Then turn in the same sentence and say my People had no right to kill those who could have returned to their own homelands if they did not like it, oh, poor settlers only wanted a better life and freedom, such hypocrites you are and so self righteous.
Now are the days of accounting, or did you think there would be no dues you would be paying, just as every conquerors before you it was YOU who were the ones assimilated , as you look into the eyes of your mixed blood children and see the truth that I am saying!