Saturday, May 23, 2015

A Losing Battle

The land was wild and was sufficient
It was never tamed but it was wounded
It will be wild again
But first, perfection had to fall
Modern men came, and I fought them
I killed many
My people called me the Prophet's Son
Because my father was my memory
My prophecy
My mother was the land












I was raised by a people who knew the truth
The land and the people
Are one
And the land and the people
Will be wild
I never knew who I was supposed to be
Instead
I was just who I was to become
I never made war against the innocents
Just against those who stole the wild
From our land
Their war was to tame us
To tame the land
And I realized that
When finally they killed me
And my body was dead
I was covered in dust and scars
They shot my body
With their lead bullets
They carved my body
With their hunting knives
I died, my flesh was hollowed
Where I was laid my body
Was buried deep beneath the prairie
That used to be covered in beast
But my blood would soak the ground
My soul would baptise the land
Soon the end would come
And make it holy
My body would be gone
















In time they harvested them all
Laid rails and built towns
Ripped sod with iron
Opened ground
Planted wheat
Tamed seeds
For a new world
They called it home
Until the dust came
And covered them
Thicker than the beasts
Who so slowly roamed
Now bones alone
A paradise lost
To the false world
That promises
Nothing


But money to buy
Things that can be replaced
Unlike the land
The prairie planted
There my soul
Upon my rebirth
There I will be
Defending the wild