Panther Across the Sky

There was a fire in the sky, The day Tecumseh fell. No white man could deny, They would know his cursed spell. There was thunder in the spirit realm, That bellowed out a threat. No holy book or church house hymn, Could make Crouching Tiger forget. There was a stillness among the trees, As time came to a halt. While his spirit became free, He vowed revenge for those at fault. Panther Across The Sky, Keeper of the sacred serpent. Held secrets of the ancient cry, Effigies, prophecies, and observance. Shooting stars are no coincidence, They were born to eventually fall. But the paths they leave are instruments, To conduce a stormy squall. Along the New Madrid fault line, In the year of 1812. He stomped his foot to undermine, And sent many a man to their hell. Backwards ran the mighty Mississippi River, As the Winged Serpent ripped the earth. And in New England they felt the quiver, Of an angry god's girth. Strength from the Chickamauga, Wisdom of the Cherokee, Fire of the Onondaga, And the magic of the Shawnee. Like a bundle of twigs bound together, Roots from the same gnarled oak. Controls the tides, sky, and weather, Upon the ground in which he spoke.