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Enter Poem or Quote (Required) Last Freedom Fighters They fought battles to conquer and spread the good news, it became a mighty state, ports open to all refugees, hard men building a new world for the next generation to travel, trading their souls for possessions to conquer these foreign lands. Hidden agenda was not known yet, our red brothers gave us warnings of many coming, our spirits calling to form a tribal union, speaking of the old days. A white calf will be born, our corn will burn from the sun rays, smoke rising to the stars, echo’s from the great chief, a war painted warrior speaking truth to the last tribe, our homes were yesterday paths, our children do not speak our language, the old sit on broken stumps not on our women woven rugs. Sorrow comes rushing in as the pendulum swings, dividing lands between the waters. Broken arrows burns their hearts, the teeth of the great wolf licks its prey, waiting in the dark den, an image of timeless tales. Unknown visitors came upon our lands and brought with them this great destruction to our pastures, many warriors now lay in scared burial grounds, they took our women and laid besides them making them slaves. Our smoke clouds bringing visions, the red fox forewarns about a massacre, ones that carry the pocked marked faces, yellow hairs that rode broken mares. It’s now there fate to give back these grounds that belonged to us, we stand tall knowing the fate of the last freedom fighter, they will go down to the valleys and lay besides our own. Our eagle soars and the black bears speaks, its upon our lands that we stood by the waters which turned into red rivers, the mountains shake bringing down the snow, the animals hide, the dark cloud is coming by the hands of great men, they too shall melt with the rising sun.
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