My People have been scattered,

My People have been killed.

Their dreams lay on the ground,

They have lost their will.



Their minds numb with pain,

Their hands no longer weave.

The Warriors no longer hunt,

But await Death for reprieve.



Their songs no longer light the way.

The women, how they mourn

The loss of their great land

Tossed about in a mighty storm.



Elders look to find the ones

Who will listen to their tales.

To keep the embers burning,

They do set their tongues to sail.



Such a tragedy to our land,

To have lost so much.

To never know the lore

From which we could learn so much...

~Neena~