Told we can never rise
That our souls are vacant
And live vile empty lives
Our great dreams are vapid
That our world we despise
But
We sorrow when children are hurt
We consider family sacred ground
We hope for the lost of our tribe
If cast into the vast dangerous desert
We make the most beautiful sound
Raising the cry
We refuse to believe in the lie
We are the children of earth
We might not be her blessing
Damned if we'll be her curse
“We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way,
begin no day where we have ended another day;
and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us.”
K
