Get Your Premium Membership

Last of the Mohicans

Once existed an indian Tribe from Algonquian Linguistic stock. Warlike in nature:power Of the colonists were Curtailed. The hammer of God, Fearless,death looms Wherever they tread. Fierce-looking on horse- Backs-the foreign Shackles of slavery,they Broke. Slaves from other tribes They made. An ally of the English, They triumphed over the French. The only shinning star in The region,this dreaded Tribe its identity it lost:the Death of their fallen Leader-the last of the Mohicans,was the demise Of a new birth.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs