Where have all my people gone, the Navaho, Lakota,
And the Sue.
Choking for a breath of life's sustaining air,
Smothered beneath the white man's blanket.
The beating heart of native drums, are stilled, frozen
In the middle of it's rhythmic thumping, no pauses echo,
Can be heard on the open plain.
The weeping woman kneels, on sacred ground, she sheds
A river of bleeding tears, burning a permanent mark, across
A baron landscape.
Death's black raven shields itself, under it's crimson soaked wing,
Against shames moral injustice, humanity's inhumanity, towards it's
The final verdict of the white man's justice, based on nothing more,
Than skin color, difference of beliefs, and sheer ignorance.
Extermination, nay a holocaust, greed fever, drives the white demons.
How much blood can mother earth be forced to drink, before
She drowns herself, or spats up everything, with sheer
Distane, and hatreds malice.
Treaties written in vanishing ink, promises disappear in thin air,
Revealing a liars sharpened tongue.
The odds have always been stacked against those believing
Flights appendages are clipped, on the dove of peace, leaving it
Unable to soar above it's own habitat.
Wreckage’s refugees stumble, in the ruins after math,
Rapes victims of civilizations civilized,
Are left devoid of their heritages legacy.
Elders chieftains representatives of a once great nation,
Smoke peace pipes in the white mans hunting lodge, in Washington,
As human beings are hauled like cattle's cargo,
Taken to reservations burial grounds.
Ancient ancestral beings, lit up heaven's vast expanse, by torches flame,
To guide the souls of the dead, unto their great spiritual plain beyond.
The pale horse gallops forward, without a rider,
And the red people become a phantom tribe, vanishing
Upon the winds shifting tides.
Giving one last final battle war cry,
Why my father but the great spirit answers not.
Behold America's legacy, a world trampled beneath
It's heavy feet, all in the name of progress, or for the cause
Of Manifest destiny.